Journeys
by Silvershield1
Summary: Magic has ruled Wizarding Britain for centuries now- unsurprisingly, given their world. But what happens when someone without magic begins to work for the good of those with it? Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters thereof.
1. Foreword

**Hello, Everyone!**

**Right, for a long time now I've had the question floating around in my mind about how things might change if a Muggle were involved in the Harry Potter series. The basic thought going through my head was "What if a trained soldier were to be present at Hogwarts through Harry's school years?" From that question came this story.**

**Wherever possible, I'm sticking to what was originally in the books as how they'd be affected by a muggle. Some actions taken by characters other than Harry have my own interpretation of why they acted the way they did, but that's simply because we don't know why they did what they did. Hopefully it will all make sense. **

**To explain about the timeline- a nice thing about Harry Potter is that you could theoretically place it at any point after World War II and have it work out fine. I'm using modern designations for firearms and such, but since almost all other technology doesn't work at Hogwarts, the exact dates don't really matter much. For convenience sake, it might be best to assume it takes place in the modern day. **

**If it's in the Harry Potter books (1-7), it's canon for this story. Information from Pottermore or The Wizarding World websites will only be considered canon if I specifically reference them in the text. **


	2. Prologue

Albus Dumbledore was not a fool.

There were those who wished he was, of course, and those who tried to prove he was, and even those who believed he was, though they were mostly fools themselves.

So, when he received word from someone who claimed to have information about what had happened to You-Know-Who and insisted he meet them, alone, in the rural village of Ombersley, he went expecting a trap. After all, there were few good reasons to ask him to come alone unless they _intended_ to attack him.

He apparated into the street just outside of the village and cautiously approached the nearest house, casting a supersensory charm as he went.

The village was small, and at nearly two in the morning, there were few left awake. Those who weren't asleep in their beds were seemingly grouped near the center of the village, waiting for someone- most likely him.

He paused for a moment to consider his options. Broadly speaking, there were three things he could do- hide, and try to approach without being noticed; walk forward openly and discover their intentions; or turn around and leave.

It was tempting to use a disillusionment charm and sneak towards the men waiting for him, but it would be time consuming and he'd rather be back in his warm bed sooner rather than later. He could leave, of course, but then he'd learn nothing, and this whole trip would be wasted.

Besides, while he was no fool, he also hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor house for no reason.

Confident in his ability to deal with those ahead of him, he started forward at a sedate pace until he was nearly in the center of the people he'd sensed earlier, then stopped. After a few silent moments, he spoke.

"Well, gentlemen?"

"Stupefy!" came a shout from off to his left.

Professor Dumbledore spun with an agility that belied his old age and redirected the spell off into the night air. Around him, a group of at least eight men appeared from the darkness, each brandishing a wand.

With a wave of his wand and an idle thought, Dumbledore threw a full-body bind at the man who'd attempted to stun him. The man conjured a shield charm, but the force of the simple spell smashed through it and sent him tumbling to the ground, stiff as a board. Absently, Dumbledore deflected a jet of blue light that went soaring up into the sky.

"Impedimenta!" came another shout, this time from ahead of him.

Dumbledore conjured a massive shield in front of him, letting it absorb the spell, then transfigured the ground underneath his attacker into liquid so that he was suddenly foundering in water. A brief moment later, he turned it to stone, leaving only the man's head above ground.

A third man didn't even get a chance to scream before the vines on the picket fence next to him came to life and wrapped themselves around him, preventing him from using his wand.

"Avada Kedavra !"

At that, Dumbledore moved for the first time since the men had attacked him, twisting on the spot to Disapparate and reappearing a few feet to the left. The spell flashed past him and struck another of his attackers, who tumbled lifelessly to the ground.

The use of an unforgiveable curse added a new level of seriousness to the fight. As another jet of green light flew past the old wizard, he raised his wand and swept it in a circle over his head. At almost the exact same time, the three men ahead of him screamed out and fell to the ground, unconscious. Slowly, the Headmaster lowered his wand.

"_Dumbledore, down!"_

The shout had come from his right, and Dumbledore immediately dropped into a low crouch, raising his wand in front of him.

_Crack! Crack! Crack!_

Off to his left, a body toppled and fell. He spared a brief glance to find that it was the last of his attackers, who had apparently managed to conjure a shield charm strong enough to block his spell.

Most of his attention, however, went to the young man standing off to his right. He was in his late twenties, based on how he looked, and it seemed that he'd dressed hastily. A wide-brimmed hat, called a fedora if he was remembering properly, sat on his head, and he held a muggle weapon clutched tightly in both hands.

"Are you okay, sir?" the newcomer asked, looking at Dumbledore.

Professor Dumbledore straightened and brushed off his robes. "Quite all right, I do believe," he said, casting a critical eye over himself. "I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you?"

"Lieutenant Nathan Smith, 22nd Special Air Service Regiment," the younger man said, eyes flicking to each of the seven remaining attackers, assessing them and discounting each of them as a threat. "Pleasure to meet you."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Special Air Service? The non-magical army?"

"Yes sir," the younger man said, apparently deciding his surroundings were secure and lowering his pistol."

"Then how, may I ask, do you know my name?" Professor Dumbledore asked, frowning.

The younger man's eyes flickered with emotion, so quickly the Headmaster wasn't entirely sure he saw it. "My wife was a witch," he said, his voice slightly quieter than before. "She described you to me once."

"I see," Dumbledore said, noting his use of the word _was_. "And I assume you heard the noise tonight and came out to see what was happening?"

"Yes sir," the man-Nathan- replied. "I'm a bit of a light sleeper these days."

Dumbledore flicked his wand to gather up his attackers. To Nathan's credit, he didn't flinch. Instead, he slid his weapon into a holster underneath the jacket he'd flung on over his nightshirt.

"And who was your wife?" the old teacher asked gently.

"Sophie Adams," Nathan replied quietly.

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. "A young Ravenclaw."

"She was," Nathan agreed. "She was killed three years ago."

Dumbledore flicked his wand once more, shrinking his attackers and slipping them into a pocket of his robe. "And you've known about the wizarding world since then?"

"I have," Nathan said, nodding. "I've stayed out of the way for the most part."

While it had never been confirmed, it had long been rumored that the Dumbledore family had some traces of seer's blood running through their veins. Professor Dumbledore wasn't sure if that was the case or not, but often he had feelings-intuition, or inspiration, or whatever you may wish to call it- that suggested a course of action to him. While they were rare, they had never lead him wrong before.

"I have been considering adding a new post to Hogwarts School for some time now," he said, stepping towards the young man. "Times were dark here once, and I fear that darkness may rise again." He stopped just in front of the young soldier and peered into his eyes. "Would you be willing to work for me, as the Head of Security for Hogwarts Castle?"

"A muggle, working at a magical school?" the young man said, raising an eyebrow.

Dumbledore nodded and stayed quiet, letting the young man think.

"Why not?" the young man said, a small smile flickering across his face.

Without a word, Dumbledore held out his hand, and the young man shook it.


	3. Chapter 1: The Invasion of Letters

Harry Potter was used to strange happenings.

After all, he'd once seen his teacher's wig turn blue, and he'd accidentally leapt to the top of a school roof, and somehow his hair had grown back overnight after his Aunt Petunia had cut it short. Why, just a month ago he thought he'd talked to a snake, then seen the glass of the snake's cage disappear (and been locked in his cupboard for three weeks) and then just four days ago he'd seen an older woman in a green dress and a man with a long black coat and hat watching him from across the street.

So, it wasn't too strange for him that the letter he'd found-his very first letter! - had his cupboard in the address. He handed the rest of the mail to his Uncle Vernon and sat down, then slowly began to open the envelope.

"Marge is ill," Uncle Vernon said. "Ate a bad whelk-"

"Dad!" Dudley said loudly. "Dad! Harry's got something!"

Harry had almost unfolded the letter when it was snatched from him.

"That's mine!" he said, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing you?" Uncle Vernon sneered, before looking down at the letter in his hand.

Harry had never seen someone's face go from red to green so fast. In fact, it kept going until it looked as grey as a dirty dishrag- or maybe Harry's Stonewall High uniform.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Aunt Petunia took the letter (holding it high to keep it out of Dudley's grasping reach) and read the first line. For a moment, it looked like she was going to faint before she made an odd choking noise. "Vernon! Oh my goodness-Vernon!" She and Uncle Vernon stared at each other as if no one else were in the room.

Dudley did not like being ignored- he rapped Uncle Vernon on the head with his Smelting stick. "I want to read that letter!"

"I want to read it," Harry said hotly, "As it's _mine!_"

"Get out, both of you," Uncle Vernon said hoarsely, stuffing the letter back into the envelope.

Harry didn't move. "I WANT TO READ THAT LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let _me_ see it!" Dudley demanded.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, grabbing them both by the back of their necks and dragging them out into the hallway before throwing them on the ground and slamming the door behind them.

Harry and Dudley promptly had a silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole. Dudley won, leaving Harry to listen through the crack at the bottom of the door.

"Look at the address," Aunt Petunia was saying "How could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching- spying- might be following us," Uncle Vernon was muttering, sounding half mad.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want- "

"No," Uncle Vernon muttered. "No. We'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer… yes, that's best… we won't do anything…"

"But- "

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we say when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

Somehow, Harry didn't think he'd seen the end of strange things yet.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Professor McGonagall?"

Nathan folded his jacket over his arm as he walked into the Deputy Headmistress's office. He'd been in his own office when McGonagall's Patronus had pounced through the wall and spoken to him, asking him to meet her in her office.

Ahead of him, Professor McGonagall was standing at her desk, along with an unexpected guest:

"Hello there, Nathan!"

Hagrid stood next to the stern transfiguration teacher, a wide grin splitting his face. He waved as Nathan walked up to them.

"Mr. Smith," Professor McGonagall said stiffly, nodding a welcome to him. "Thank you for coming."

"No problem," Nathan said, then frowned. He'd worked with Professor McGonagall for long enough to know when something had happened. "What's wrong?"

"We were sendin' out th' Hogwarts Acceptance Letters," Hagrid rumbled, "An' we ran into a snag…"

"It seems that Mr. Potter has not been allowed to see his letter," Professor McGonagall said, clearly keeping her temper in check. "Apparently, he never read it."

Nathan frowned. "He wasn't allowed to see it?"

"Tha's right," Hagrid confirmed. "Pity, too- he's such a good kid, I'm sure- have you met him?"

"Professor McGonagall took me to see him a few days ago," Nathan said, frowning. "Black hair, glasses, little bit on the short side? Looks like he needs a good meal?"

"That's him," McGonagall confirmed. "According to the charms on the letter, Mr. Potter took it out of the envelope but never had a chance to unfold the parchment. It would appear that his uncle took the letter from him and burned it. He's been moved to the smallest bedroom now."

"That's not good," Nathan mused, frowning. "What do you need me for?"

"We had hoped yer experience with muggles might help us get one through to 'em." Hagrid rumbled.

Nathan rubbed his chin. "Is there any way to get a letter to him without his guardians knowing?"

"None that are practical," the deputy headmistress replied thinly.

"Very well," Nathan grinned. "Then we go the other way."

* * *

The next morning, there were three letters with Harry's name on them, all of them addressed to "The Smallest Bedroom". Dudley had nearly gotten one open before Uncle Vernon had gotten them away from him. Harry had been hit several times with the Smelting Stick before he'd been sent up to his bedroom.

The morning after that, he tried to sneak downstairs and steal a letter from the post before Uncle Vernon got to it. That didn't go well- Uncle Vernon had been sleeping by the front door in a sleeping bag and Harry had stepped on his face. He'd been sent to his room again before he could even touch any of the five letters that had been delivered.

Uncle Vernon stayed home from work that day to nail up the mail slot.

"After all, if they can't deliver them, they'll stop trying!" he said, a little too cheerfully to be taken seriously.

* * *

"Well, that doesn't seem to have worked either," Professor McGonagall said, her lips thin in the way that Nathan knew meant she was angry. "He's ripped up all the letters and is now apparently nailing shut his mail flap."

"What," Nathan snorted. "Does he think if we can't deliver them the normal way we're going to stop?"

"Seems' like it," Hagrid rumbled, frowning. "What'a we do now?"

There was a brief pause.

"Do you remember that joke you made about putting them in the egg carton?" Nathan said slowly.

Hagrid's face split into a wide grin. "Yep, I sure do," he said, chuckling. "Yeh think I should do that?"

"Why not?" Nathan said, also grinning. "Maybe they'll get the point then."

"Very well," Professor McGonagall said crisply. "Hagrid, you work on that, and I'll write up another fifteen letters and deliver them by owl. And I'll tell the owls to wait for a return message, too."

The next day was truly overwhelming. Twelve letters had been shoved through the cracks around the door, and another three letters had been forced through the window of the downstairs bathroom. Another two dozen letters were forced in and around the eggs in the egg carton that was handed to Aunt Petunia by a very confused milkman. On top of all that, there were fifteen owls sitting on the front lawn that looked at Uncle Vernon expectantly every time he went outside.

As Uncle Vernon called the post office to complain and Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor, Dudley looked at Harry in amazement. "Who wants to talk to you _this_ badly?"

"I have just about had it with these muggles!" Professor McGonagall snapped, fuming. "They _still_ haven't let Harry even _touch_ a single one of his letters!"

"Yeah, I don't like the implications of that," Nathan said, troubled. "Never known that to bode well."

"Well, I am _not_ letting this stand!" Professor McGonagall hissed, sounding almost like the cat she could become. "James and Lily were two of my favorite pupils, and I am not letting their child fail to get an education in magic! Tomorrow I'm going over there myself and I'm sending a few _hundred_ of those letters down their chimney!"

* * *

When Uncle Vernon came down to breakfast, he looked tired, ill, and, worst of all, happy.

"Today's Sunday," he said, smiling. "No post on Sundays. None of those blasted letters- "

Something came whizzing down the chimney and slammed straight into the back of his head. The next moment, thirty or forty of "those blasted letters" came pelting out of the chimney with the same speed as a particularly bad hailstorm. The Dursleys ducked and dodged, but Harry reached up eagerly, grabbing for a letter until-

"OUT!" Uncle Vernon roared, grabbing him around the waist and throwing him into the hall.

After Aunt Petunia and Dudley had sprinted (or at least, moved as quickly as his great bulk would let him) out of the kitchen, Vernon slammed the door shut.

"That does it," he said, trying to sound calm but spoiling the illusion by pulling out great chunks of hair from his mustache. "I want you packed up and ready to go in five minutes. Nothing but clothes and essentials! We are going away!"

* * *

"Well, at least they're out of Privet Drive," Nathan mused, rubbing his chin. "That's something."

"And when they go back, they'll have to clean all the letters out of their kitchen," Professor McGonagall said, a steely glint in her eye. "I'm leaving them right where they fell."

"Should I be gettin' ready to go pick him up meself?" Hagrid rumbled. "It don't look like they're goin' to let him read any of these letters."

"I say we try one more time, when they're staying at a hotel," Nathan said grimly. "Then there'll be other people around. If they ignore that, though, someone will need to go get them." He shifted. "If it's okay with you, Hagrid, I'd like to come too. Something about this doesn't sit well with me. We can get Harry's school shopping done and pick up the Stone from Gringotts at the same time."

"Sounds like a plan ter me," Hagrid growled.

* * *

Harry didn't know what he'd expected when they left the house, but he'd assumed they'd be going back to it eventually. Now, though, several hours later, he wasn't sure.

They spent the night at a gloomy looking hotel outside of a big city. While Dudley snored the night away, Harry sat up and stared out his window at the cars moving below, wondering about who wanted to get to him so badly, and why. Whoever it was, it seemed like they really cared.

They were at breakfast the next morning when the hotel receptionist came up and asked, "Excuse me, but are any of you Mr. H Potter? Only I've got about a hundred of these letters up at the desk…"

She held up a letter that was addressed to "Mr. H. Potter, Room 17, Railview Hotel, Cokeworth." Harry reached for it, but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll get them," he said gruffly, standing up and following her out of the dining room.

Several hours later, Harry was sitting in a boat headed out to a tiny shack in the middle of the ocean. Uncle Vernon had been driving them around all day, making several random stops and then keeping moving. At one of those stops, he'd come back with a long, narrow package wrapped in paper. He'd refused to tell them anything about it.

The shack was cold, and dreary, and miserable, but Uncle Vernon acted like it was a sanctuary in the middle of a storm. He'd tried starting a fire, but the chip bags he tried to use just shriveled and smoked.

"We could do with some of those letters now, couldn't we?" he said cheerfully. Clearly, he didn't believe anyone could reach them out on this forsaken rock. Privately, Harry agreed, though he wasn't cheered at all.

As night came on and it grew dark outside, his uncle and aunt retired to the only bedroom in the shack. Dudley shoved Harry off the couch and onto the floor, then stretched out and was snoring in minutes.

A storm had started outside and was pounding on the building. Absently, Harry remembered that his birthday was the next day. He wondered if the Dursleys would remember it, and if the person writing the letters cared about it. He wondered if he'd ever be able to read one of those letters.

Distantly, he watched as Dudley's watch counted down to midnight. Five… Four… Three… Two… One…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

* * *

"Well," Nathan said, "I guess it's time for us to get going."

He and Hagrid had been spent their afternoon finishing up their preparations for the evening. They were going to pick up Harry Potter, who _still_ hadn't been allowed to open any of his letters, and then take him to Diagon Alley to get his schoolbooks and the Sorcerer's Stone.

A few years ago, it would have been Hagrid who would have been sent to get the Stone, but since Nathan had been hired as the Head of Security for the school, the responsibility fell to him instead. He'd decided to mix it with this trip to pick up Mr. Potter, since he was a bit worried about the boy.

The kid simply wasn't getting his Hogwarts letters. One or two of them being missed could, in theory, be explained, but not all the letters they'd sent.

Nathan was all too aware of what that could mean. At the very least, the Dursleys were hiding things from Harry. At worst, he was being severely abused. He'd taken his concerns to Dumbledore, who had frowned and told him to keep a sharp eye out for whatever problems there might be.

"Well," Hagrid grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Let's go see the lad, shall we?" He stood up and walked out the door of Nathan's office.

Nathan followed, checking one more time to make sure his pistol was secure in his holster.

His office was just off to the side of the Entrance Hall, and while it might have been crowded with students during the school year, the term hadn't started yet. There were, however, several teachers walking through the hall, and he smiled and waved to them.

Most of the teachers, as well as the students, believed he was a squib who had joined the army before assisting Dumbledore and being hired as the Head of Security. The same excuse had been given to the school board and most of the wizarding world. The only ones who knew he was a muggle who'd been married to a witch were Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and the parents of the family he'd stayed with for a week before arriving at Hogwarts.

Nathan followed Hagrid out onto the grounds and towards his hut. According to the charms the Hogwarts Professors used to track potential students, the young Harry Potter was in Southern England, and moving steadily towards the English Channel. Nathan thought they were probably driving towards the sea in a car, possibly out of the mistaken belief that magic couldn't cross open water.

"How are we getting there?" he asked for the second time that day. Hagrid had simply said he'd take care of it, which, with Hagrid, could mean anything from 'We'll use broomsticks,' to 'We'll ride a dragon."

"One of these beautiful beasties," Hagrid smiled, leading a skeletal horse around from the back of the hut.

Nathan recognized it as a Thestral, a magical Pegasus-like creature that could only be seen by those who'd viewed death. As a soldier in the British SAS, he'd seen and caused plenty of death in his lifetime, which meant he had no difficulty seeing the creature.

"Come on then," Hagrid said, smiling cheerfully as he mounted the steed. "Up you go."

Nathan awkwardly swung his leg over the horse's back, then clung to Hagrid's waist. While he could do many things well, horseback riding was _not_ one of them.

"Giddy-up," Hagrid shouted, and the Thestral vaulted into the air.

They flew for most of the evening, sweeping through the sky from Scotland towards the Channel. They stopped in London briefly for a short dinner, grabbing the stereotypical British meal of fish and chips wrapped in newspaper. As Nathan paid for their dinner, Hagrid disappeared into the bakery next door.

"Tomorrow's the young lad's birthday," he rumbled when he reappeared. "Thought I'd get him somethin' to celebrate with."

"Sounds good to me," Nathan replied, handing Hagrid the delicious smelling package. "Here's your dinner."

"Thanks," Hagrid replied.

They ate quickly, then took to the air again.

At around nine, they hit the storm.

Rain pounded down on them, drenching Nathan's jacket and clothes. The Thestral labored to stay in the air, and Hagrid bent forward, staring worriedly at the horizon.

"This isn't gonna be easy," he shouted over the wind. "Hang on!"

The Thestral had to slow down in order to stay aloft, and they inched forward through the deluge. Lightening flashed around them, once coming so close Nathan could feel the hair on his arms sticking up.

Finally, they reached the Channel. Hagrid leaned back and roared, "He's around 'ere somewhere! Look fer an island!"

They scanned the ocean beneath them for a few seconds before Nathan jabbed a finger at the sea off to their left. "There!"

A small, dilapidated old shack stood on a tiny rock island, giving the distinct impression of an old man hunched miserably against the storm. Hagrid turned the Thestral towards it and put it into a gentle dive.

They landed on the island, and Hagrid leapt off the Thestral onto the ground. Nathan slid off, feeling sore. The poor Thestral was soaked, and looked rather miserable.

"Head back to Hogwarts," Hagrid said, petting the Thestral's snout. "Fly safe." Catching Nathan's eye, he added, "We'll find a new way back. Harry won't be able to see the Thestral. Shall we?" he added, pointing to the hut above them.

"Let's go," Nathan agreed. "The sooner we're out of the rain, the better."

They hurried up to the door of the hut and Hagrid stepped forward to knock, then glanced at Nathan. "Ready?" he called, barely audible over the storm.

Nathan didn't try to speak. Instead, he just nodded. Hagrid raised his fist to knock.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!


	4. Chapter 2: Explanations and Revelations

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Right, so here's chapter two, in which we get to see Nathan and Harry meet. I'll be trying to post every week on Thursday, but sometimes Real Life might get in the way. I'll try to get chapters out every week, though. Please enjoy, and if you do like it, then reviews are always a nice way to show it. ;)**

Uncle Vernon came running into the room, a rifle gripped tightly in his hands- apparently, that's what was in the long package he'd brought with them. Dudley sat up and stupidly asked, "Where's the cannon?"

"Who's there?" Uncle Vernon shouted, clutching the rifle as if it was a security blanket. "I'm warning you- I'm armed!"

There was a pause, and for a moment, Harry thought the visitor had gone away. Then- SMASH!

The door fell off its hinges and dropped, upright, onto the floor, then slowly tipped over and crashed flat onto the ground.

"Was that really necessary?" came a gentle voice that sounded surprisingly like it was trying not to laugh.

"Well, I wasn't tryin' to," came a large, rumbling voice. "I just wanted out o' the rain…"

A giant of a man crouched down and stepped through the door. He had long, wild black hair and eyes that glittered like beetles beneath his bushy eyebrows. Water dripped off his tangled beard.

Behind him, a much shorter man stepped through the doorway. He was probably almost six feet tall himself, but beside the giant figure of his companion he seemed shorter. He wore a knee length black coat with a brown fedora and exuded a seeming aura of watchfulness. He scanned the room, his eyes settling on Harry for a brief moment before he smiled and continued to look around. For some reason, he looked familiar.

The giant turned and picked up the door, then set it back into the frame. The noise of the rain outside lessened just a tiny bit.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey," he said, turning to look at them all.

No one answered- they were all too busy staring at him in amazement.

The giant man snorted and strode over to the sofa where Dudley was frozen in fear. "Budge up, yeh great lump," he said, poking Dudley with the tip of the bright pink umbrella he held.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was huddled, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Harry!" the giant said, beaming down at him. "Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping sound. "I demand you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!"

"Don't even get started on law," the other man interjected. He'd moved to the corner and was leaning against the wall, looking straight at Uncle Vernon with a slightly predatory gleam in his eye. "That's a rifle you're holding, and I'll guarantee you don't have a firearm permit for it."

Uncle Vernon turned a particularly interesting shade of puce.

"Besides," the man said, with a smile that looked distinctly wolfish, "I'm SAS. I'll guarantee I'm better with that thing than you are." He looked back at Harry and winked.

"Anyway-Harry," the giant man said, turning his back on the Dursleys. "A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat for yeh here- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste alright."

From an inside pocket of his coat, he pulled out a slightly squashed box. Harry took it and opened it to find a large, sticky chocolate cake with the words "Happy Birthday, Harry" written in green icing.

"So that's what you got at that bakery," he heard the other man murmur.

Harry looked up at the giant of a man and tried to say thank you, but what came out instead was "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled. "I guess I haven't introduced meself yet. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

The other man shifted. "I'm Lieutenant Nathan Smith, with the Special Air Service. Please, call me Nathan. Sorry I didn't mention it sooner." He smiled at Harry.

Somewhere behind him, Uncle Vernon made a noise like a mouse being thrown from a fourth story window. Nathan seemed to find it amusing.

"Now, then, about that tea," Hagrid rumbled. "Let's see… do yeh want some as well, Nathan?"

"Yes please," Nathan responded.

Hagrid bent forward and snorted at the sight of the chip bags in the fireplace. He prodded the fireplace with his umbrella, and when he leaned back, there was a large fire crackling in the grate. Harry felt the warmth wash over him like a tide coming in from the ocean.

"Tha's better," Hagrid said, satisfied. He reached into his pocket and started pulling out all sorts of strange items- a packet of sausages, a kettle, a teapot, a bunch of chipped mugs, and a poker, of all things. The room was quiet as he started working on the tea.

"I know where I saw you!" Harry said suddenly as he realized why Nathan looked so familiar. "You were the one who was watching me earlier this summer! With the lady in the green dress!"

Nathan smiled. "That was Professor McGonagall. She's a teacher at the school."

"What school?"

"Hogwarts, o' course," Hagrid said, smiling at him. He slid a couple of sausages off the poker and passed them to Harry.

Harry took them and muttered thanks, then said, "What's Hogwarts?"

"Yeh don't know?" Hagrid said, looking shocked.

"Err-no," Harry said, then feeling worried, muttered "Sorry."

"Sorry?" Hagrid barked, turning to the Dursleys. "It's them as needs to be sorry! We knew yeh weren't getting' yer letters, but we never thought yeh wouldn't know about Hogwarts! Didn't yeh ever wonder where yer parents learned it all?"

"All what?" Harry asked, confused.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered, leaping to his feet. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He seemed to fill the whole hut, his anger providing him with an even greater presence. The Dursleys were pressed against the walls of the hut.

"Hagrid," Nathan said in quiet warning. He didn't move from where he stood, but Harry could see him looking at the Dursleys, whose faces were white in their fear.

Hagrid seemed to deflate, sitting back on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

"Did you tell Harry anything about his family? About what they did and who they were?" Nathan asked in the same quiet, mild tone. He was looking, strangely, not at Uncle Vernon, but at Aunt Petunia.

"What about my family?" Harry asked. He tried to sound calm, but a note of excitement had entered his voice. The Dursleys had never told him anything about his parents, except that they'd died in a car crash.

"DURSLEY!" Hagrid roared again, sounding furious.

Uncle Vernon had gone very pale and was wildly looking back and forth between Nathan and Hagrid. He muttered something that sounded oddly like "Mimblewimble". Nathan looked at him sharply, and to Harry, it seemed like the smaller man was carefully assessing him.

"But yeh have to know about yer parents," Hagrid said, sounding lost. "They're famous. _Yer_ famous."

"W-what? My mum and dad- they weren't- they can't have been famous- were they?"

"Yeh don't know… yeh don't know," Hagrid was staring at Harry, running his hand through his hair in bewilderment. Finally, he seemed to find his voice. "Yeh don't know what yeh _are_?"

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!' he commanded, leveling the rifle he held. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

"Vernon Dursley," Nathan said in an authoritative voice. He'd slipped his hand into his jacket and was watching Uncle Vernon intensely. "_Put that rifle down._"

Uncle Vernon seemed to snap back to the present. He looked over to Nathan, then Hagrid, and paled.

A much braver man than Uncle Vernon would have quailed under the combined gazes of Nathan's cold eyes and Hagrid's blazing fury. Uncle Vernon seemed to deflate like a punctured balloon.

"You never told him?" Hagrid breathed, every syllable trembling with rage. "Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left for him? _I was there!_ I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! And you've kept it form him _for all these years?"_

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly, a strange emotion welling up in his chest.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in a panic as he leveled the rifle again.

Harry didn't see Nathan start to move, but suddenly he was between Uncle Vernon and Hagrid, his arm flicking out and extending a short police baton. He swept it up and trapped the rifle between the baton and Uncle Vernon's arm, levering it out of Uncle Vernon's hands. Nathan snorted contemptuously and deftly took the rifle apart in three short moves.

Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror as Uncle Vernon cringed.

"Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry- yer a wizard."

There was silence in the room. Outside, the sea, the wind, and the rain could be heard whistling over the crackle of the fire.

"I'm a what?" Harry gasped.

"A wizard," Hagrid repeated, "An' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum and dad like yers, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

Harry reached out to take the yellow envelope Hagrid was holding out to him. He opened it with shaking hands.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl by no later than July 31st.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

_ Deputy Headmistress_

Harry had so many questions he thought he might burst. After a few seconds of all of them trying to get out of his mouth at once, he finally asked, "What do they mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," Hagrid muttered, pulling an owl- a real live owl- out of his pocket along with a long quill and a roll of parchment.

"Owls are how wizards usually send messages," Nathan said, explaining from his place in the corner. He was still glancing over at the Dursleys occasionally, but he seemed more relaxed now that the rifle was out of the way. "I know it sounds strange, but believe it or not, it's actually faster than regular post."

"There we go!" Hagrid exclaimed, looking pleased with himself. Harry leaned forward so he could see the letter. He could read it upside down as Hagrid put away his quill.

_Dear Professor Dumbledore_, he read. _Given Harry his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well. Hagrid._

Hagrid rolled up the note, stuck it into the owl's beak, and threw the poor owl out into the storm. "There, that's taken care of," he said, sounding satisfied. Then he came back and sat down as if he'd simply used a telephone.

Harry was too confused to know what to say, but that was alright, because Hagrid was speaking again.

"Where was I?" he wondered, but got no further.

"He's not going."

Uncle Vernon had apparently recovered from his ill-advised attempt to use his rifle. He still looked very pale, but also very, very angry as he moved into the firelight.

Hagrid grunted. "I'd like ter see a great muggle like you stop him."

"A what?" Harry asked, curious.

"A person without magic," Nathan explained quietly. He'd gone back to watching Uncle Vernon closely.

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish!" Uncle Vernon said, "Swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You _knew_?" Harry exclaimed. After the way they'd been talking, he'd suspected it, but to hear it was a whole different matter.

"Knew?" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "_Knew?_ Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school- and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats! I was the only one who saw her for what she was- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

Harry was surprised- this was probably the most Aunt Petunia had ever spoken to him. She kept going, oblivious to his shock, as if she'd wanted to say all of this for years. "Then she met that Potter at school and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as-as- _abnormal_ and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone very white. "Blown up? You told me she died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH?" Hagrid roared, leaping to his feet. The Dursleys flinched back into their corner. "How could a car crash kill James an' Lily Potter! It's a scandal! Harry Potter not knowing his own story, when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But why?" Harry asked. "What happened?"

Hagrid's anger disappeared, and he suddenly looked very, very worried. "I never expected this. When Dumbledore told me there might be a hard time getting' hold of yeh, I never knew how little yeh'd been told…" His voice trailed off as he shook his head.

"About ten years ago, the wizarding world was in the middle of a war," Nathan said, speaking up for the first time in several minutes. Hagrid shot him a grateful look. "There was a wizard who started walking down some evil paths, trying to get as much power as he could. He called himself Lord Voldemort- "

Hagrid flinched so hard he nearly fell off the couch. Harry stared at him. "Don't say tha' name," the huge man muttered, looking over to Nathan.

"A lot of wizards are still terrified of him," Nathan explained, seeing Harry's confused look. "During the war, even saying his name could get you killed by his followers. And he had a lot of followers. Some of them were looking for power, some were afraid, and others just wanted to hurt people." He shifted. "I wasn't there at the time- I was in basic training for the Army- but people were terrified. They couldn't trust strangers, never knew if they were going to be attacked, sometimes couldn't even trust friends or family- didn't know if they were being controlled by the enemy. This wizard was taking over the country. There were people who stood up against him, of course, but he was a very skilled wizard. He killed a lot of them."

Nathan shifted again, and Harry realized with a start that even the Dursleys seemed captivated. "The only wizard that could consistently stand up to him was Dumbledore- the headmaster of your school and my boss. Voldemort never seriously tried to attack Hogwarts- we think he was scared of Dumbledore. Hogwarts was one of the only safe places left."

"Your father and mother were the Head Boy and Girl of Hogwarts in their seventh year of school, and they stood with Dumbledore. Fought alongside him, too, after leaving school. One night- Halloween night ten years ago, specifically- the dark wizard went after them."

"No one's quite sure why You-Know-Who tried to go after them," Hagrid rumbled, having seemingly recovered. "Maybe he thought he could force 'em to do what he wanted- maybe he just wanted 'em out of the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, late at night on Halloween. You was just a year old then. He came to yer house an-an- "

Hagrid stopped and blew his nose on a very dirty spotted handkerchief with a sound like a foghorn.

"You tell 'im," he moaned, waving to Nathan.

"He killed both your parents," Nathan said gently. "He tried to kill you, too, but something went wrong. That scar on your forehead was caused by the spell that should have killed you- that's why it's never faded. It was a cursed wound. As far as we know, you're the only person who's ever survived that particular curse."

"You-Know-Who killed lot's o' people," Hagrid sniffed. "Some o' the best and brightest witches an' wizards of the age- the McKinnon's, the Bones, the Prewetts- an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

As Hagrid spoke, something strange happened in Harry's mind. He saw a bright green flash of light- like the one that often showed up in his nightmares- and remembered a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh to this lot- "

"Load of old tosh."

Harry jumped. He'd nearly forgotten the Dursleys were there, but Uncle Vernon had stepped forward and seemed to have gotten his courage together again. He had his fists balled together and was staring angrily at Hagrid.

"Now you listen here, boy," he snarled. "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured- and as for all of this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion-asked for all they got, getting mixed up with all these wizarding types- just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

Nathan stood bolt upright and reached into his jacket with a snarl, but Hagrid beat him to it. He leapt to his feet and snatched up his umbrella, holding it to Uncle Vernon's throat like a sword. "I'm warnin' you, Dursley, one more word…"

In the face of a giant's wrath, Uncle Vernon's courage failed. He flattened himself against the wall again and stayed silent.

"You had better be glad you never gave him that 'good beating'," Nathan said quietly from his spot in the corner, in a tone of voice that sounded all the more dangerous for it's calmness. "Because if you had, I'd have taken it out of your hide."

Harry was barely listening, though-he still had too many questions. "But what happened to Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry," Hagrid replied. "Vanished, disappeared, same night he tried to kill yeh. That's the mystery, see, why'd he leave? He was only getting' more powerful."

"Some think he's dead. Codswallop, in my opinion- Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's out there, bidin' his time. Don't know if I believe that either. People who was on his side came back to ours, came outta trances- don't reckon they coulda done that if he were comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's out there, somewhere, but he's lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. Somethin' about yeh, Harry- something stopped him that night."

Hagrid looked at him with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry just felt like there'd been a horrible mistake. Him, a wizard? When Dudley beat him up and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were so awful to him? If he was really a wizard, why did he keep getting hurt?

'Hagrid, I-I think there's been a mistake," Harry said, feeling miserable. "I don't think I can be a wizard."

"Not a wizard, eh?" Hagrid said, chuckling. "Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

"I think he has," Nathan said shrewdly. He'd been watching the Dursleys. "Vernon's face just went pale again."

Harry thought back to things that had happened in the past- his teacher's blue hair, the too-small jacket, the snake at the zoo- and smiled.

"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard- you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon hadn't finished yet.

"Haven't I told you he isn't going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish- spell books and wands and- "

"If he wants ter go a great muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily and James Potter's son from goin' to Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down since he was born. He's off to the best school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled- "

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" roared Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone to far. Across the room, Nathan jerked upright again with a snarl and blazing eyes, but he couldn't do anything before Hagrid rose to his feet.

"NEVER- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!" he thundered, seizing his umbrella and whirling it over his head.

He brought the swishing down to point at Dudley- there was a flash of violet light, a noise like a firecracker, a squeal, and suddenly Dudley was dancing on his feet with his hands clamped onto his fat bottom, squealing in pain. When he turned around, Harry could see a curly pig's tail poking out of a hole in the bottom of his trousers.

Uncle Vernon roared. He grabbed Aunt Petunia and Dudley and pulled them into the other room, sending one last terrified look at Hagrid as he slammed the door.

"Hagrid!" Nathan said, seemingly struggling not to laugh. "Was that really necessary?"

Hagrid blushed bright red. "They insulted Dumbledore," he muttered. "Didn't work anyway. Meant to turn him into a pig, but I reckon he was so much like a pig before there weren't nothin' left ter do."

He looked sideways at both of them. "Please don't tell Dumbledore," he begged. "I'm-err-not supposed to do magic outside of school- one of the reasons I'm so eager to take this job-They said I could do a little, just to find yeh..."

"Why can't you use magic?" Harry asked, curious.

"I-err got expelled in my third year at Hogwarts," Hagrid muttered. "They snapped my wand in half-, but Dumbledore said I could stay on as groundskeeper. Great man, Dumbledore."

"As long as you fix it tomorrow," Nathan said, interrupting Harry's next question of _why_ Hagrid was expelled, "I won't worry about it." His eyes were still laughing, though, as he looked at Harry. Harry grinned back.

"Now," Nathan continued. "We'll have an early morning tomorrow- we're going to go buy your school supplies. Better get some sleep while you can."

"Here, you can kip under that," Hagrid said, holding his overcoat out to Harry. "Don't mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormouse in one o' the pockets."

"Goodnight, Harry," Nathan added as Harry lay down to drift off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 3: School Shopping

**You know, I said I'd have a chapter up every Thursday, and here it is on Monday evening. Go figure. **

**As always, if you have any questions feel free to ask, and please hit that little button down at the bottom! **

Nathan was already awake when the other two began to stir the next morning.

Harry began to move first, muttering something about his aunt from under Hagrid's coat. He shifted once, then settled.

_Tap tap. Tap tap. Tap tap._

Nathan unfolded his arms and stepped over to the window, where an owl was rapping on the glass with its talons.

Behind him, Harry sat up and gasped, eyes wide. "What?" he breathed.

"Morning, Harry," Nathan said, opening the window to let the owl through. It hopped onto the table and dropped the newspaper, then extended its leg so Nathan could pay it. He pulled five knuts out of his pocket.

Harry clambered over to the table, looking at the brass coins curiously. Nathan glanced over at him for a moment, then spoke.

"These are knuts," Nathan said to answer the unasked question, holding up one of the bronze coins so Harry could see. "They're a wizarding coin." He pulled a sickle and a galleon out of his pocket as well. "This gold one's a galleon, and this silver one's a sickle. There's seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-nine knuts to a sickle." Seeing the look on Harry's face, he added, "I've gotten very good at my seventeen and twenty-nine multiplication tables."

Harry smiled.

"Hagrid," Nathan called over his shoulder. "Time to get up."

"Wha?" Hagrid said, jolting half upright. "Mornin' already?"

"Yeah," Nathan said, moving to where Hagrid's coat was still on the floor and picking it up. "We got to bed late, after all."

"Right then," Hagrid grunted, sitting the rest of the way up. "Best get ready- got a long day ahead. Got to go an' buy yer school things." He smiled widely at Harry.

Nathan saw Harry's face fall. "Err… I haven't got any money, and you heard Uncle Vernon- he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Not to worry," Hagrid said, grinning at him. "Did yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But I thought their house was destroyed…" Harry said, looking confused.

"Not at the house," Hagrid said, smiling. "They kept their gold in Gringotts, the wizarding bank!"

Nathan turned away from the rest of the conversation- Hagrid was telling Harry about goblins now- in favor of putting together some sort of breakfast.

Within a few minutes, he had warmed some sausages over the embers of last night's fire and split the birthday cake into three portions. He handed a couple of sausages and a piece of the cake to his two companions, and the room was quiet for a few minutes while they ate.

"Right then," Hagrid beamed as they finished eating. "Let's get a move on,"

"Hagrid," Nathan said gently, smiling at him. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Hagrid frowned and scratched his head. "Well, I can't think o' nothing…"

"Perhaps a loose tail or two…" Nathan prompted.

Hagrid's eyes widened comically, and Nathan stifled the urge to laugh. "Blimey!" the half-giant moaned. "Dursley's tail!"

Nathan chuckled and got up to walk over to the door. He loved Hagrid, but the gentle giant sometimes failed to remember simple things.

He swung the door open to find the three Dursleys huddled in a corner. It looked like they hadn't slept all night.

"Dursley, if you want us to fix your son's tail, you might want to come out here for a second," Nathan said amicably.

Uncle Vernon flinched. Nathan looked him over for a moment and sighed.

Out of all of England, he was probably the muggle with the most experience with magic. He'd fought dark wizards in the last three years, seen wonders he'd never imagined, and been on the receiving end of several spells, harmful and otherwise, and he'd have to say there was nothing overly special about magic. Sure, there was wonder and amazement, but eventually you just got used to it. He certainly didn't think it was worth panicking over.

"Look, you can come and let us fix his tail, or you can take him to a hospital, but it'll cost more at a hospital and be more complicated," Nathan said. Uncle Vernon didn't seem convinced yet. "Probably invite more questions too," he added.

That, more than anything, seemed to be able to coax them out of the back room. Uncle Vernon came first, wincing at Hagrid, then Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

They stayed just long enough for Hagrid to undo his incomplete transfiguration, then scurried back into the other room. Nathan rolled his eyes and turned back to Harry and Hagrid.

"Shall we go?" he said dryly.

"Let's get a move on," Hagrid smiled.

Nathan let Hagrid take the lead as they left the hut, following Harry, who was grinning widely, out the door. They walked down to the boat on the seashore, which was probably the same one the Dursleys had arrived in, and Harry looked around expectantly.

"How'd you get here?" he asked.

"Flew," Hagrid responded.

"Flew?"

"Yeah, but we'll be going back in this," Hagrid said, pointing to the Dursley's boat. "Not supposed to use magic now that I've got yeh."

"Aren't you a wizard?" Harry asked, looking at Nathan.

"No, I'm a squib," Nathan lied smoothly, keeping his face natural. He liked Harry and wouldn't have minded telling him the truth, but Hagrid didn't know, and Nathan didn't need that secret slipping out to anyone, even if they heard it from an eleven-year-old boy.

Seeing Harry's confused look, he added, "That means someone born to magical parents who doesn't have magic."

"Oh, okay."

Harry climbed into the boat, and Nathan followed. Hagrid pushed the boat into the water and settled down.

"Err… seems a shame to row," Hagrid said, glancing at Nathan. "What'd you think about speeding things up a bit?"

Nathan hid a grin- he knew how much Hagrid liked using magic when he could. "I think you have my permission," he said solemnly. Harry looked on eagerly, probably hoping to see more magic.

Hagrid tapped the boat with his umbrella, and it began speeding through the water.

"First stop, Gringotts," Hagrid rumbled. "Get yer money out."

"Hagrid, why would someone have to be insane to rob Gringotts?" Harry asked. Apparently, Hagrid had been espousing the virtues of Goblin guarded gold.

"Spells and Enchantments and such," Hagrid grunted. "And they say they have dragons guarding the high-security vaults. Then yeh got ter get yer way out again- Gringotts's hundreds a' miles underground."

Harry shot a surprised look at Nathan, who smiled and mouthed, _"Not quite- just really far down."_

Hagrid continued, oblivious to Nathan's silent statement. "Yeh'd probably die o' hunger tryin' to get out, even if yeh did get yer hands on summat."

Harry went quiet, thinking about what Hagrid had said. Nathan leaned back against the side of the boat and read the article on the outside of the Daily Prophet while Hagrid read the inside.

"Typical Ministry o' Magic," Hagrid grunted several minutes later. "Messin' things up, as usual."

"You should read the article on the back," Nathan said dryly. "It's an article of complaints about the new apothecary regulation laws."

"There's a ministry of magic?" Harry asked.

"Yep," Hagrid responded. "They wanted Dumbledore fer minister, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if there ever was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every mornin', askin for advice."

"What does a ministry of magic do?" Harry asked.

Nathan opened his mouth to answer, but Hagrid beat him to it.

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Did you ever learn in school about the witch hunts back in the middle ages?" Nathan asked before Hagrid could respond.

"Yes," Harry said, frowning.

"That's why," Nathan said, smiling wryly. "Most of the wizards and witches out there still worry about them."

"Oh," Harry said, smiling. "That makes sense."

The boat bumped up against the harbor wall and the three of them climbed out. Hagrid turned back to the boat and prodded it with his umbrella once, sending it back to the island where the Dursleys were so that they would have a way back.

People were staring at them- mostly at Hagrid- as they walked through the town, but Nathan ignored them. He led the way into the train station and managed to get them seats on a train to London that was leaving in two minutes.

Hagrid really wasn't helping much with the whole "Stay unnoticed" idea- he kept pointing at things like the card reader and the vending machines and saying, "Blimey, Harry, what will these muggles think of next?"

_If anyone asks,_ Nathan thought dryly_, I guess I can pass him off as an Irishman_. No one would really believe it, but he could rely on the typical British politeness for them to accept it.

Harry sat between Nathan and Hagrid on the train and was almost covered by the circus tent-sized yellow sweater Hagrid was knitting.

"If you have your letter still, Harry, it has a list of everything you need," Nathan said, looking down at Harry and smiling.

"Can you buy all this in London?" Harry asked, his eyes wide as he scanned the piece of parchment that held the list.

"If yeh know where to go," Hagrid said sagely.

Nathan sat quietly through the ride to London, then ushered Harry and Hagrid off the train when they arrived. Hagrid took the lead again and led them through the city to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Here we are," Hagrid said, stopping outside the door and beaming down at Harry. "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place." He opened the door and stepped inside.

"The usual, Hagrid?" old Tom, the bartender, asked, smiling at them.

"Not today," Hagrid said importantly. "On official Hogwarts business." He patted Harry's shoulder. "Got ter get Harry here his books and things."

The old pub went silent.

"Could it be…" old Tom said, gasping. "Bless my soul- it's Harry Potter!"

Slowly, then more urgently, the patrons of the pub crowded around Harry to shake his hand and beam at him. Harry was clearly trying to shake everyone's hand, but Nathan could tell he was starting to feel crowded.

"Hey," he said gently, sweeping his arm around Harry. "You're crowding him. Give him some room, lads." He smiled warmly to make sure no one thought they were being slighted.

The crowd moved back slightly, but people still pushed forward to shake their young hero's hand. Even so, Nathan thought Harry looked a little less stressed.

Professor Quirrell came up to meet them, wearing his new turban. Nathan had known him since he'd started working at Hogwarts, though admittedly he'd spent those two years as the Muggle Studies teacher, not the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher- he'd switched positions this year. He made a few polite comments to them and then stepped back to let other patrons get to Harry.

Finally, they made it back to the walled courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron and Harry relaxed.

"Too crowded?" Nathan said shrewdly, looking down at Harry.

Harry nodded fervently, making Nathan laugh. "Trust me, I get it," he said, grinning. "I hate crowds too."

"Now let's see, it's three up, two across…" Hagrid muttered, tapping on the courtyard wall with his umbrella. "Aha!"

With one last tap, he stood back and let the bricks rearrange into the archway that led into the alley.

"Welcome," Hagrid said grandly, "To Diagon Alley."

Harry looked amazed. He was staring at a pile of cauldrons as they passed. "We'll get you one of those in a minute," Nathan said, startling the younger boy.

Nathan had been to Diagon Alley plenty of times before, but Harry was looking around as if he were in a whole new world- which, Nathan supposed, he was. He was staring at everything from the broomsticks outside Quality Quidditch Supplies to the owls the owl store- Nathan couldn't remember the name of it and the words on the sign were too small- were selling.

Finally, they reached Gringotts. Harry stared at the goblin by the door for a moment before Hagrid nudged him. "Yes, that's a goblin," the giant man whispered.

Nathan watched as Harry read the poem on the doors. "Not ominous at all, is it?" he said dryly.

Harry nodded, still a bit wide eyed.

They walked through the wide silver doors into the marble hall. Around them, goblins were counting piles of coins and jewels.

Nathan led his small group to the counter and pulled a letter out of his pocket. "I'm here about a package in vault 713," he said, handing the letter over to the goblin.

The goblin looked at the letter through an eyeglass, then handed it back. "Seems to be in order," he said in a raspy voice.

"We're also here to make a withdrawal from Mr. Potter's vault," Nathan said, motioning to Harry and Hagrid.

"And does Mr. Potter have his key?" the goblin asked, peering over the counter to where they stood.

"Hang on a minute." Hagrid grunted, patting his pockets. "Got it here somewhere."

He started emptying his pockets out onto the counters, producing the kettle he'd used for tea the night before, a shovel with dirt clumped onto the end of it, and a handful of dog biscuits that were so large Nathan wasn't sure if they were for Fang or Fluffy.

"Found it," Hagrid said at last, holding up a tiny gold key.

The goblin took it and peered at it through his eyeglass again. "That also seems to be in order," he said. "I'll have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

They followed Griphook through to the door to the underground section of the bank. A small cart came hurtling up the railroad tracks towards them, and Griphook ushered them in.

Nathan was well used to the wild Gringott's cart rides by now, but he could have sworn this one was more wild than usual. They pulled up to vault 713 and Nathan staggered out.

"Stand back," Griphook said importantly, and stroked the door with his finger. The door shimmered and melted away. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried to do that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped there."

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," Griphook said nastily.

Nathan leaned in and picked up the package containing the Philosopher's Stone, then tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat. That way, if anyone tried to force him to give it to them, it was right next to his pistol in its shoulder holster.

"What's that?" Harry asked curiously.

"It belongs to a friend of Dumbledore's," Nathan replied easily. "He asked me to pick it up for him."

"Oh, okay," Harry said. Nathan hid a smile and wondered if Harry had realized that his question hadn't been answered.

Their next stop was Harry's vault- vault 687. Harry looked stunned at the amount of money in the vault when Griphook opened it, and it wasn't until Hagrid nudged his side that he stepped forward to fill the sack he'd been given with some of the coins. After he'd finished, he stepped back and Griphook locked the door again.

"Can we go a little slower on the way back up?" Hagrid asked, looking a little green.

"One speed only," Griphook replied.

Indeed, after a rather wild ride back to the surface, Hagrid excused himself to go back to the Leaky Cauldron to find something to settle his stomach. Nathan guided Harry to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he could find his school clothing.

He frowned a bit when he saw the other customer in the store- Lucius Malfoy's son. Lucius had been firmly against him being given the position of Head of Security, since he was "A wandless, magicless, useless squib," the argument being that a man with no magic could hardly guard a magic school. He'd wondered at the time what Lucius would think if he knew he wasn't even a squib.

Absently, he rubbed his forehead. The pale blonde-haired kid had looked up at the two of them when Harry had sat down and Madam Malkin had started measuring him.

"Well," he sneered, looking at Nathan as Madam Malkin bustled around, taking Harry's measurements. "If it isn't the Squib."

"Yep," Nathan replied easily. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy. Getting together your Hogwarts uniform, I assume?" He smiled pleasantly at him.

Being a squib in a position of relative authority at Hogwarts meant that he'd dealt with prejudice plenty of times before. He'd found that a lot of times, the easiest way to confuse the person trying to put him down was to act as if they were just making perfectly polite conversation. The first time he'd done it, to this very boy's father, it had stunned Lucius Malfoy so much he'd not spoken for a good half a minute.

Pity it hadn't lasted longer.

It seemed he'd done the same thing to his son. The younger Mr. Malfoy looked at him in confusion for a moment before apparently deciding to ignore him. He turned to Harry and engaged him in conversation.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, holding out his hand a bit pompously. "You don't want to associate yourself with that sort- they just drag you down."

"I think he's quite brilliant," Harry said, shaking his hand with surprisingly well-hidden distaste. His robe was slowly being sewn up by the needle that was magically moving back and forth without any help.

"I don't know why," the kid-Draco- said distastefully. "I don't think you'll do well hanging around him, though. He's just not the right sort."

"I think I can tell the right sort for myself, thank you," Harry replied, frowning.

Draco's face grew cold and he pointedly looked away, leaving the room in silence.

Nathan took advantage of the quiet to start mentally planning. He and the schoolteachers were still setting up the final hiding place for the Stone in the third-floor corridor, and he hadn't finished running through all the proposed security measures for it. They'd spent the summer break reinforcing the wards around the castle- the last time it had been so secure was the first war with Voldemort- and Nathan had already mapped out and secured the various passageways out of the school, with Professor Flitwick's help. Various charms on the secret passageway's entrances would tell him who entered or left using the passageways- they projected the names onto a magically linked piece of parchment- and he had similar plans for the door to the third-floor corridor.

What he wondered about now was the final protections to be used. Professor Dumbledore had allowed each teacher free reign on their protections, only stipulating that they shouldn't be lethal, and had left them to it. While Nathan wasn't actually a teacher, he still held roughly the same amount of authority, and he'd also been invited to contribute.

_Should I rig up some flash bangs?_ He thought absently. _Or maybe some kind of taser…_

He was interrupted when Madam Malkin bustled back into the room and pulled the robe from Harry's shoulders. "Right then," she chattered as she put it into a bag with several shirts and pairs of trousers. "Here's your uniform robe, your hat, and here's a form so you can order a house tie once you've been sorted." She smiled at him and handed him the bag.

"Thank you," Harry said politely, standing up and stepping down from the counter.

Nathan stepped outside with him just in time to see Hagrid returning, trying to juggle three ice cream cones.

"Harry!" he grinned. "'ere, got summat fer yeh." He handed over one of the three ice cream cones. "An' one fer yeh as well," he said, grinning at Nathan and offering him a sundae with hot fudge and raspberries. Nathan had never figured out how Hagrid knew his favorite ice cream.

"Thank you," he replied, smiling back.

They took Harry to Flourish and Blotts next, to get his schoolbooks together. Thankfully, the first-year schoolbooks were easy to find, although Nathan did have to pull Harry away from a copy of_ Curses and Countercurses_ that had a ridiculously long subtitle.

"I was trying to figure out how to curse Dudley!" Harry protested.

"I'm not sayin' it isn't a good idea," Hagrid cautioned, "But yer not ter use magic in the muggle world except in very special circumstances. 'Sides, yeh'd need lots o' study afore yeh could reach that level."

"Plus there's laws against hexing muggles, no matter how much they deserve it," Nathan said. "Pity, that," he added absently.

Harry grinned.

The next hour or so followed a simple pattern- they'd go to a new shop, and Harry and Hagrid would talk while Nathan kept them on task. They purchased a cauldron and telescope for Harry at one shop (Nathan had to dissuade him from getting a gold cauldron) and a potions kit at the apothecary, then went to a stationary shop where Harry found ink, quills, and parchment.

As they walked out of the shop, Harry held one of his new white quills up to the light. "Why do I need quills?" he asked curiously, looking up at Nathan and Hagrid.

Nathan smiled. "Quills are a lot easier to enchant than a pencil or a ballpoint pen," he said, guiding Harry down the street. "Keeps students from cheating. You'll need them for exams and such. I guess you could use a pen outside of classes, but most students get so used to using a quill that they don't bother to use anything else."

"Oh, okay," Harry said, then wrinkled his nose. "I don't know how to write with a quill, though."

"Yeh'll be fine," Hagrid said, smiling down at him. "They'll teach yeh early on."

The tall half-giant looked down at the list that had come with Harry's letter and scanned down the length of it. "Almost done," he grunted. "Just need yer wand- oh yeah, an' I haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Harry's face turned red, making Nathan wonder why receiving a birthday present was embarrassing. Before he could think much about it, Harry spoke.

"You don't have to- "

"I know I don't have to," Hagrid said, smiling down at the eleven-year-old in front of him. "Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal-not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at- an' I don't like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail and everything."

"Think I'll get you something, too," Nathan mused out loud. He caught Hagrid's eye. "If you want to take him to go get his owl, I'll go grab a present and meet you outside Ollivander's."

"Sounds good ter me," Hagrid smiled.

Nathan split away from them and headed towards the entrance of Diagon Alley, waving to them as he went. He passed Professor Quirrell again, who was carrying a large cage with a cloth draped over it, and several Gringotts goblins, all of whom seemed agitated and were gesturing furiously at the base of the Gringotts stairs.

_I wonder what that's about?_ he thought, then continued down the street.

The apothecary he was looking for was the same one they'd bought Harry's potions kit from, and he stepped through the door carefully, wrinkling his nose at the pungent smell rising from the various potions ingredients. He took a moment to scan the store before his eyes alighted on what he'd come for.

The first-aid kits sat on the shelf underneath the counter, and he stepped towards them as he pulled a moneybag out of his jacket pocket.

"How can I help you?" the older wizard behind the counter asked, smiling at him.

"Can you tell me what's inside one of the medium-sized first aid kits?" Nathan said, smiling back at him.

"Of course," the man replied, reaching down and hoisting one up onto the counter. "Each of these kits contains gauze, several assorted bandages of various sizes, a small phial of Essence of Dittany, a small phial of Murtlap Essence, three Pepper-Up potions, two Wiggenweld potions, an InstantIce compress and a pamphlet containing several simple healing spells. We also customize them as well, if you'd like."

Nathan paused for a moment, then said, "Add a bezoar, please? And something for burns as well."

The wizard in front of him raised an eyebrow when he asked for a bezoar, but slipped one into the kit anyways. He turned and picked up a small bottle, then turned to Nathan. "Aloe paste mixed with dittany," he said, holding it up, then adding it to the kit. "It'll take care of most burns, but serious injuries should still be checked by a professional." He tapped the case and the items he had added appeared on the list of contents.

Nathan thanked him and paid him for the kit, then picked it up and hurried out of the store.

As he neared Ollivander's, he saw Harry and Hagrid ahead of him. Harry was carrying a cage with a beautiful white owl in it, while Hagrid seemed to be carrying everything else. It looked like they were having some kind of discussion about the school houses.

"-says Hufflepuff are a bunch o' duffers," Hagrid was saying, "but-"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," Harry said gloomily, looking at the ground.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," Hagrid replied darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"Hagrid, that's not true!" Nathan reprimanded, coming up behind them. "Remember Barty Crouch's son? He was a Hufflepuff, and Sirius Black was a Gryffindor. There's dark wizards in every house." He smiled at Harry. "Nice owl."

"Thanks," the kid grinned, looking up at him.

"This is for you," Nathan added, handing him the first aid kit. "Hopefully, you won't get hurt, but it's a magic school- there's always danger involved somehow. If anything happens this can help." He gave him a basic run through of everything the first aid kit contained, ending with the bezoar and the aloe vera paste.

"Thank you," Harry said again, smiling, before he frowned. "You-Know-Who went to Hogwarts?"

"Years and years ago," Hagrid said, then changed the topic. "Now ter Ollivander's- best place fer wands, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

Harry perked up, looking excited. Nathan grinned and lead the way into Ollivander's store.

Wandlore was one of Nathan's few hobbies, and he'd been in the shop several times before. He noticed absently that the wand on the cushion in the window had changed since the last time he was here- before, it had been ebony. Now, the wand in the window was made of applewood.

Somewhere inside the shop, a bell rang, heralding their entrance. Nathan smiled at Harry, who was looking around with awe at the thousands of dusty boxes lining the walls, and moved to lean against the wall by the door. Hagrid settled into the single spindly chair in the corner.

_Three, two one_, Nathan thought, bemusedly.

Sure enough, as soon as he hit zero, a soft voice said "Good afternoon."

Harry visibly jumped, as did Hagrid- the chair he was sitting on crunched audibly- and spun towards the voice.

Mr. Ollivander stood patiently behind the counter, looking as if he'd been there the entire time, even though Nathan knew he had appeared there moments before.

"Hello," Harry said awkwardly.

"Ah, yes, Harry Potter," Mr. Ollivander said. "I thought I might be seeing you soon. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was here buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. "

He stepped a bit closer, studying Harry's eyes closely. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a Mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

He was almost nose to nose with Harry now. Nathan watched closely, but didn't interfere. He trusted Mr. Ollivander, but it did look like Harry was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. "And that's where…" He brushed his finger against Harry's scar. "I'm ashamed to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He shook his head, and the motion drew his attention to Nathan and Hagrid. Harry looked suddenly relieved.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again! Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," Hagrid responded.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you were expelled?" Mr. Ollivander said sharply.

"Er-yes, they did, yes," Hagrid admitted, shuffling his feet. "But I've still got the pieces, though!"

"But you don't _use_ them?" Mr. Ollivander asked sternly.

"Oh no sir," Hagrid said quickly, clutching his pink umbrella.

Nathan took extra care to make sure his face remained blank. Hagrid had gotten drunk once and admitted to him that Dumbledore had repaired his wand and encased it in the handle of his umbrella, something Nathan heartily agreed with, since his expulsion had been unfair. He would prefer Mr. Ollivander didn't know _that_ particular fact, though- who knew what trouble that might lead to.

"Hmm," Mr. Ollivander said, giving him one last, long glance before looking to Nathan. "Ah! And Mr. Smith! A pity I will never be selling you a wand, though I hear you have your own devices for when you need them. Apple wood?"

"Powerful, requires high ideals, mixes poorly with dark magic, and bonds well with personal charm," Nathan answered promptly, smiling.

"Rowan?"

"Very good at protective charms, good for dueling, possibly even less inclined to dark magic than apple."

"Well done," Mr. Ollivander said happily. "Now, Mr. Potter, I believe you were looking for a wand. Which is your wand hand?"

"Er- I'm right handed," Harry said.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." Mr. Ollivander's measuring tape began taking measurements as Mr. Ollivander started pulling down boxes. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tailfeathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Apparently, that was when Harry realized the tape measure was moving on its own- Nathan saw him start and stare at the tape, then at Mr. Ollivander.

"That will do," Mr. Ollivander said, letting the measuring tape fall to the ground. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took it and looked at Nathan uncertainly, then flicked it.

Some instinct warned Nathan, and he dove for the floor. The wallpaper above him where his head had been tore off the wall and fluttered to the ground.

"Not that one," Mr. Ollivander said, plucking the wand out of his hand. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it out."

Again, Harry flicked the wand. This time, the inkpot on Mr. Ollivander's counter exploded.

"Oops," Mr. Ollivander muttered before taking the wand back. "Here. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Give it a try."

This time the wand knocked several boxes off the wall.

"Maybe something made of Alder?" Nathan said, standing back up and dusting off his jacket.

"Excellent suggestion!" Mr. Ollivander said, grinning. "Here, alder and dragon heartstring, fairly flexible, thirteen inches."

And on they went, with both Nathan and Mr. Ollivander proposing different woods and combinations. The pile of wands they'd rejected was beginning to teeter precariously on the counter when Mr. Ollivander paused. "I wonder…" he murmured, before heading towards the back of the shop, ducking around part of the wall that had changed color.

"Yes," Nathan could hear Mr. Ollivander muttering. "why not… unusual combination, to be sure…" He came back into the main room with a new box. "Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Give it a try."

Harry took the wand from him and waved it across his body. Bright, brilliant red and gold sparks shot from the end of the wand and across the room. Nathan broke out into a wide grin as Hagrid whooped and clapped his hands. Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

He set the wand back in its box and started wrapping it in paper, still muttering under his breath.

"Sorry," Harry said nervously, "But what's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single one. It so happens that the phoenix who's tail feather is in your wand gave another feather, just one more. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when it's brother… it's brother is the one that gave you that scar."

At that, Nathan stood upright. "The same phoenix gave a feather for Harry's wand and Voldemort's wand?"

Both Hagrid and Mr. Ollivander flinched, then Mr. Ollivander straightened. "Yes, indeed," he said. "You know what that means, I assume?"

Nathan nodded thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"Yes, yew, thirteen and a half inches," Mr. Ollivander said, turning his attention back to Harry. "Curious how these things happen… remember, young man, the wand chooses the wizard. I think we can expect to see great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did many great things. Terrible, yes, but great."

Nathan saw Harry shiver as he pulled the galleons out of his moneybag. Harry handed Mr. Ollivander the seven gold coins, and the old man bowed to them as they left the shop.

The sun was setting as the three of them walked back through Diagon Alley, now almost emptied of people. They moved back through the Leaky Cauldron and started towards the train station.

As they walked, Nathan took the opportunity to study the young man in front of him. He'd expected someone more bold, perhaps even spoiled slightly from fame, yet he'd found someone who was completely the opposite. Harry wasn't arrogant, he was meek- willing to ask questions and learn about the new world he found himself in.

He also seemed unsure of himself- not quite insecure, but also not very audacious. He seemed more willing to listen than speak, but when he did have something to say, he sometimes hesitated to say it.

And yet, he liked this young man. He could tell that the kid had a good heart, and he trusted that he would do what seemed right to him. It would interesting to see what he accomplished.

They stopped outside the train station to get some dinner. Nathan paid for himself and Harry, though Hagrid turned down his offer of a hamburger, and they settled in to eat. Harry was staring down at his food with a frown on his face.

"What is it, kid?" Nathan asked quietly.

There was a brief pause, then Harry began to speak. "Everyone thinks I'm special," he said. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander… but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-sorry, I mean, the night my parents died. I just don't think I'm all that special."

Nathan leaned back in his chair. "Well, kid, most of them do see you as some kind of 'superhero' or 'legend'. And yeah, most of that you don't remember. But I don't think they're seeing what they should be."

Harry looked up at him and raised his eyebrows. "What do you think they should be seeing?"

"What I see," Nathan said. "I see a kid with a good heart. I see someone who's famous, but hasn't let that fame go to their head. I see someone who's curious, but not intrusive. Kind, but willing to stand up for people. You stood up for me in front of Malfoy, and that tells me you're a good kid. Takes courage to do something like that."

Harry looked a little doubtful, but he was still listening. "Okay."

"I guess what I'm saying is, don't worry about what they see. Just be you. Keep being who you are, and eventually they'll start seeing that too."

"Don't worry if yeh mess up," Hagrid added, smiling warmly at him. "Yeh'll learn. Yeh've been singled out, I know, and it's hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts. I did-still do, as a matter of fact."

"Okay," Harry whispered. "I just worry- what if it's too hard?"

"You'll make it," Nathan said kindly. "And just remember- everything that's worth doing is hard somehow."

Hagrid pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to Harry, then stood up and guided him to his train. "This is yer ticket fer Hogwarts. The station, the train- it's all on yer ticket. Send me an owl if the Dursleys give yeh any trouble- yer bird will know where to find me."

"I'll come pick you up on September first," Nathan added. "Eight am sharp. I'll make sure you make it onto your train."

"See yeh soon, Harry," Hagrid finished.

As the train started to pull out of the station, Harry moved to a window where Nathan and Hagrid could see him. They waved at him until the train disappeared around a bend.

_Take care, Harry_, Nathan thought. _See you on the first of September_.


	6. Chapter 4: Meetings

**Good evening!**

**Wow. It's been a difficult few weeks. What with the whole pandemic thing going on and the fact that I work in healthcare, time for writing has been sparse on the ground. Sorry it took so long. **

**Here's the next chapter, which is written mostly from Nathan and Ron's point of view. I know Harry's not a viewpoint character in this chapter, but don't worry- he will be in the next one.**

**As an unrelated note, I am thinking about having a couple of people to beta for this story. If you'd be interested, please send me a message.**

**Thank you and feel free to leave a review if you liked it. :)**

**-Silvershield1**

Nathan spared a moment to wonder if any pureblood wizards were familiar with the idea of rental cars.

To be fair, he'd just sat in on a school board meeting with Professor Dumbledore, so it wasn't too surprising that his thoughts were drifting towards Purebloods- strangely enough, every member of the board was either a pureblood or a half-blood. That didn't surprise really him- Lucius Malfoy's hand was evident enough in the way that even the chairman of the school board looked to him for direction. He would have done his best to ensure that only purebloods made it onto the board.

And yet, even with the Malfoy fortune and library, Nathan didn't think he'd have any idea what a rental car was. Matter of fact, with the fortune he had, Lucius Malfoy probably didn't even know what the word "rental" meant.

He stopped at a stoplight and shifted, rubbing his eyes. He'd spent the previous month helping prepare for the new school year, including preparing the hiding place for the Sorcerer's Stone, and he was exhausted.

They'd moved Fluffy into the third-floor corridor- apparently, it would take time for the rest of the defenses to get set up, so Fluffy was serving as a stopgap measure until they could finish. They anticipated storing the stone for the better part of the next seven years, so they could afford to take the time to set up good security measures. They'd be setting up the rest of the defenses throughout the first half of the school year, and he had a meeting with Dumbledore later in the afternoon to discuss the arrangements that needed to be made.

Right now, though, he had a new student to pick up. He pulled up to the curb by Number 4, Privet Drive.

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting- probably just knocking on the door, speaking to that unpleasant Vernon chap and having Harry and his school stuff sent out to him. He hadn't expected for Harry and his school supplies to be sitting on the front porch, looking as if they'd been there for the better part of an hour.

Nathan parked his car and got out. "Hey there, kid!" he called, raising his hand and waving at him.

Harry's face seemed to light up when he saw him, and a huge smile broke out on the young boy's face. "Nathan!"

"The one and only," Nathan said, grinning back. "You just about ready?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, clambering to his feet and picking up his trunk with both hands. "Where should I put this?"

"I'll take it," Nathan said, reaching out to pick up the trunk, "If you want to get your owl's cage." He hefted the trunk into the boot of the car. "Did you pick a name for her yet?"

Harry nodded, looking pleased. "Her name is Hedwig."

Nathan squatted down in order to be able to see the owl in her cage. "Nice to meet you, Hedwig," he said, offering her his finger. She considered him for a moment with her wide eyes, then nipped his finger affectionately. "It's a good name," he told Harry as he straightened up. "Do you want to put her in the backseat?"

Harry nodded eagerly and opened the rear door, then carefully set his owl inside.

"Anything else?" Nathan asked cheerfully.

Harry shook his head. "Uncle Vernon put all my stuff out on the porch this morning. He said to wait for you."

Nathan frowned. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Maybe two hours," Harry replied.

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

Harry shook his head. "No. it's okay, though. Sometimes I don't get breakfast."

Nathan kept his face impassive, but his stomach was roiling. "Well, we've got time to stop for breakfast on the way to the station," he said firmly. "We'll grab something and bring it with us."

Harry's face lit up. "Hop in," Nathan laughed, patting the passenger's seat.

They stopped at a café outside Surrey so Nathan could buy them some pastries, then continued towards London. As they went, Nathan and Harry chatted about nearly everything. Nathan was particularly pleased by how he made Harry laugh, recounting the story of one of the twin's innumerable pranks.

"So, have you looked through your schoolbooks yet?" Nathan asked once he finished his story.

Harry nodded. "I've read through _The History of Magic_\- it's where I got Hedwig's name from- and part of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_. It's really interesting."

"Are you looking forward to school, then?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I can't wait." He frowned. "I just hope I'll do well. I'm still afraid I'm going to mess up and embarrass myself."

"You'll do okay," Nathan said confidently. "There's a lot of people there who were born and raised by muggles, so they'll be at the same place you will be. You might mess up, but you're a kid, a student. If they were expecting perfection they shouldn't have come to a school." He gave Harry a wide grin to show that he was joking.

Harry was quiet for a moment. "Nathan," he said softly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Go for it, kid," Nathan said, turning serious.

"Why does everyone think I'm a hero?" Harry asked plaintively. "I don't remember what happened when my parents died, but everyone thinks I somehow beat Voldemort. They all think I'm a hero, but I'm not."

Nathan sighed. "Kid, you remember I told you I was in the army, right?"

Harry blinked. "Yes," he said curiously.

"About six years ago, I was in Afghanistan. My squad and I were on a relatively routine patrol- nothing complicated. It wasn't something the SAS usually did, but we needed some intelligence for an operation we were planning so we went out. The first part of the mission went well, but about halfway back to our base, we were ambushed by Taliban Insurgents- about twenty of them, compared to our eight. We were outnumbered and taken by surprise." He shifted, feeling solemn. "Within the first ten seconds, my commanding officer and his second in command were both dead, and half my section was wounded."

"I took command and got everyone back into cover, then we returned fire. We fought our way back to our base with no more fatalities and took out most of the enemy unit as well. I shot their commander myself. They gave me a Military Cross for 'an act of exemplary gallantry during active operations against an enemy on land'. Said I was a hero, and that if I hadn't stepped up my whole section would be killed, and we wouldn't have the intel we needed."

Nathan shook his head. "I didn't feel like a hero. All I could think about was my commanding officer and his second, and about their families and how they wouldn't be coming home. How Major Johnson's wife wasn't going to see her husband again, and his kids wouldn't ever have him to tuck them into bed. I remember getting frustrated about it one day before I finally realized something- it wasn't about what I'd. It was about what I'd given them."

Harry blinked, confused, so Nathan explained.

"See, what they really needed was something to show them that we were doing something, that we weren't wasting our time- they needed hope. It wasn't important who had taken charge, but it was important that someone did- not just so someone was in charge, but so that they had someone to follow, and that we weren't done. It showed them that we weren't beaten, not by a long shot. People need that even more from you, Harry."

"I wasn't here during the first Wizarding War- I was in basic training for the Army- but a lot of the people I work with were. Most people don't know this, but the Ministry of Magic was losing. People were disappearing almost daily, and the public was terrified. Nowhere seemed safe, because Voldemort was attacking anyone he could. If he came after you, you were almost certainly dead."

"People would disappear completely and never be heard from again. Or, sometimes worse, they'd be killed and then reanimated to go back and kill their family. People would come home, sometimes acting strangely, sometimes seemingly fine, then they'd start killing everyone around them. Secrets no one was supposed to know were regularly winding up in the ears of Voldemort and his followers-the Death Eaters- and either being exposed to the public or being used to blackmail people. The worst part was that no one was sure who was going to be attacked next. It could be you, or your spouse, or your child or neighbor. Voldemort mostly focused on people with non-magical parents, yes, but anyone who didn't agree with him was a target. On top of all that, they were attacking muggles as well, so the Ministry was working overtime trying to modify the memories of everyone who saw magic used."

Nathan shook his head. "Basically, the Ministry was fighting a losing war, unable to stop attacks, overreached, with key personnel being murdered or disappearing, and with no hope of victory. Kids barely starting school were being attacked just for having muggle parents, young couples were being killed- it was a dark time."

Harry's eyes were wide. "Oh," he whispered.

"Then, Voldemort went after you," Nathan said. "The most powerful dark wizard since World War II went up against a one-year old baby- and lost. With him gone, his followers lost direction and fell apart- there was no one to lead them. The Ministry rounded most of them up- some claimed to have been controlled, but most of them went to prison- and the attacks stopped. People who just the day before had been expecting to die now had time ahead of them. They could live. They could make a life where they could be happy, where they didn't need to worry about keeping themselves safe from a maniacal terrorist. For the first time in years, they had hope."

"And you, Harry- you're the boy who lived when he should have died. That's a pretty apt description of all of Wizarding Britain, actually- it should have died in the war, but it didn't. To the Wizarding World, you're the embodiment of survival against an overwhelming enemy. On top of that, you defeated the man who'd made their lives a living hell. Sure, you didn't try to, or you didn't mean to, but that doesn't matter to them- they just know that because of what happened that night, they're safe. They no longer need to worry about being murdered in their beds by Voldemort."

"I see," Harry said, looking disturbed.

"And yet, it still bothers you," Nathan surmised, "Just like the medal still bothers me."

"Yeah," Harry replied. "It does."

Nathan gave him a sympathetic smile. "My best advice is just to keep in mind- it's for them, not you. Just be yourself and act like you usually would. If someone interests you, be their friend. Don't worry too much about it."

"Okay," Harry said.

Nathan turned into the parking lot of the station. "This is it," he said, changing the topic. "King's Cross Station."

They got out of the car, and Nathan pulled Harry's trunk out of the boot before returning the car to the rental agency. The crowd wasn't as bad as Nathan had worried it would be, so it didn't take long for them to get inside the station.

"Nathan, my ticket says Platform Nine and three quarters," Harry said, looking down at it. "Where's that?"

"Right between platforms nine and ten. Why they call it Platform Nine and three quarters rather than Platform Nine and a half is beyond me," Nathan replied with a grin. "We'll be meeting someone right outside the platform."

They'd only been waiting for a few minutes when a familiar voice reached Nathan's ears. "Well, well, well!"

Nathan turned to see the Weasley family approaching, one of the twins in front with an earsplitting grin. "If it isn't our illustrious head of security!"

"And he's brought a friend!" the other twin continued. "Why, what a surprise."

"Fred, George," Nathan said, smiling and nodding in greeting to both of them.

Behind them came Percy, pushing his cart with his chest puffed out to display his prefect badge, and Ron, who looked slightly nervous. At the back of the group came Molly, who was holding onto Ginny's hand. From where he stood, it looked like Ginny was trying to convince Molly to let her go to Hogwarts with her siblings.

He didn't miss the way Ginny's eyes widened when she saw Harry. She blushed and hid behind her mother- the telltale signs of a crush forming. Given that Harry's scar was covered, Nathan doubted she even knew who he was, which forced him to hide a chuckle when he thought about the shock she was likely to get when she found out.

"Oh, knock it off!" Molly exclaimed, scolding her two boys before smiling at Nathan. "Hello, Nathan!"

"Hello, Molly," Nathan replied, smiling warmly.

He'd spent the first two weeks of his time in the Wizarding World with the Weasleys, learning how wizards acted and thought so he could pass himself off as having been raised by wizards before joining the magical world. The children had been told he was reacclimatizing to the wizarding world, but he was pretty sure Charlie and Bill had figured it out. Molly and Arthur were the only ones that had been told the truth, and Arthur was, predictably, ecstatic to have a muggle he could question. Nathan still visited often- they were some of his only friends outside of the school staff.

"Harry, this is the Weasley family," he said, motioning to the family ahead of him. "The two jokesters in front are Fred and George- good luck figuring out which is which- and the one behind them is Percy. He's a Prefect this year- "

"As he's reminded us once- "

"-or twice- "

"-A day- "

"-Every day- "

"-All summer."

Nathan rolled his eyes at the twin's interruption. "And the one behind him is Ron. He's your age. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny are in the back there. Weasleys, this is Harry."

"Hello, Harry!" Percy said pompously. Ron muttered something that sounded a little bit like a greeting while the twins both gave him wide, sweeping bows. Ginny just slipped further behind her mother.

"Good to meet you, Harry!" Molly said, smiling at him. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing well," Harry said, looking nervous.

"Good to hear," Molly replied cheerfully. "Looking forward to school?"

Harry nodded. "Oh, yes!"

"You'll love it," Molly predicted before looking at Nathan. "Shall we get onto the platform?"

"Yes, before it gets too late," Nathan said, looking at the clock on the station wall. "We've only got a few minutes before the train leaves."

"Right then, Percy, you go first."

Nathan drew Harry off to the side and leaned down to explain the barrier to him. "The entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters is behind that barricade. You can go straight through the barricade to get there, but- this is important- you can't be too nervous before you go through. It's best to go at a quick walk or a run if you are." He motioned to Percy, who was about to go through. "Watch him, so you can get a look at how it works."

Percy darted through the barrier, and Harry visibly blinked in surprise.

"Fred, you go next," Molly instructed.

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the twin objected. "Honestly, woman you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear," Molly replied, flustered.

"Only joking, I am Fred," the twin said, and then off he went, followed quickly by George- or at least, who Nathan thought was George. With those two, it was hard to tell.

"Ron, you next," Molly said, rolling her eyes fondly at her sons' antics.

The youngest of the Weasley boys gulped visibly, then took off for the barrier at a run. He passed through it quickly, leaving Harry, Nathan, Molly and Ginny as the last ones on their side of the platform.

"Harry, do you want to try it now?" Nathan asked gently.

Harry smiled weakly, then started for the barrier at a trot. Nathan smiled reassuringly as he went through.

"Molly?" he said, looking at the woman in question.

"Right then, Ginny," Molly said, smiling. "Here we go."

"Please can I go to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked plaintively as they walked through the barrier.

Nathan smiled briefly, then moved to follow them through the barrier.

By the time he got to the other side, Harry was already working to get his trunk onto the train. As he watched, the twins walked over to help him lift it into the carriage.

He made his way over to where Molly was standing, watching her boys get onto the train. Ginny had apparently given up on getting her mother to let her go to Hogwarts and was sulking at her side.

"Hey, Ginny," Nathan said, smiling cheerfully at her.

Despite her obvious unhappiness, Ginny smiled back at him. "Hey, Nathan."

Nathan had always been impressed by Ginny, ever since he'd seen her stealing her brother's brooms from the family broom shed to go flying when he'd been staying with them. She had a clever mind and a talent for reading situations, which is why he turned around quickly when she looked confused at something behind him.

Fred was walking towards them quickly, staring at Nathan. As soon as he was close enough, he whispered, "Nathan, you didn't tell us your Harry was Harry Potter!"

Ginny immediately twisted to look at her mother. "Oh, please mum, can I go and see him?" she begged. Given the look on her face, Nathan was privately given to the opinion that she was hoping her mother would let her onto the train so she could hide and get to Hogwarts that way, but her mother wasn't having it.

"You've already seen him, dear, and he's not in a zoo. You don't need to stare at him."

Nathan raised an eyebrow at Fred- a motion that had taken him several years of practice to perfect, but one that he considered priceless for its ability to make students think twice. "No, I didn't," he replied, smiling. "Harry's not used to attention, so he'd prefer not to be stared at, okay?"

"Oh. Okay," Fred said.

"I suppose that explains why the poor dear didn't have any family here to see him off," Molly said, turning to look at Nathan. "He's such a good young man- he seemed so polite earlier."

"He's a good kid," Nathan agreed. "Had a hard life, but he's doing alright, it seems."

Next to molly, Ron fidgeted, drawing Molly's attention. "Oh, Ron, you've got something on your nose. Hold still," she ordered, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket and wiping at the side of his face. Ron put up a token struggle, but it seemed like he didn't mind too much.

"Oh, has ickle Ronniekins got somefing on his nosie?" George asked grinning.

"Shut up," Ron muttered, turning red.

"Alright, you two," Molly said, turning from Ron to the twins. "This year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl saying that you've- blown up a toilet, or- "

"Blown up a toilet? We haven't done that before," Fred-or was it George? - said, grinning.

"Great idea, though, thanks mum," the other twin said, matching the first twin's grin.

_One of these days, I really need to figure out how to tell those two apart_, Nathan thought.

"It's not funny. And look after Ron."

"Don't worry, Ickle Ronniekins will be safe with us."

"You lot might want to hurry onto the train," Nathan interrupted, nodding his head at the station clock. As if to emphasize his words, the whistle on the Hogwarts Express blew. The rest of the crowd began to hurriedly filter onto the train.

"Blimey!" Fred (George?) exclaimed, and the three boys hurried onto the train, then poked their heads out the windows. Ginny was crying again.

"Don't worry, Ginny! We'll send lots of owls!"

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!"

"You darned well better not!" Nathan called over Molly's _"George!"_ with a grin. "If you do, I'll have you in so much trouble you'll wish _Snape_ had caught you!"

The train began to move. Molly and Nathan waved at the Weasley boys and Harry, who'd appeared in one of the windows with an uncertain smile, and Ginny ran half laughing and half sobbing down the platform until the train had picked up too much speed and was gone around the corner.

Nathan stood and looked thoughtfully into the distance, Harry's uncertain smile stuck in his mind. He'd kept a sharp eye out while he'd been around the kid's family, and he'd not seen any _proof_ of abuse, but it was clear that his family didn't like him, and the feeling seemed mutual. He just wished he knew what to do about it.

Ginny walked back to them slowly, looking over her shoulder at where the train had disappeared. She took her mother's hand and stood dejectedly, staring at the ground.

"Would you like to stay and have lunch with us?" Molly asked, turning to Nathan.

Nathan smiled and shook his head. "I have to be back at Hogwarts for a meeting," he said, then paused as a thought came to him.

"Molly, do you have plans for the holidays yet?"

"No, not really," the motherly woman said. "We'd thought about going to visit Charlie in Romania, but nothing's set in stone yet."

"Would it be too much to ask for you to invite Harry to spend Christmas with you?" Nathan asked carefully. "His family doesn't seem to like him much, and I think he could use some time away from home."

Before Molly could even respond, Ginny had spun around and grabbed at her hand. "Oh, please say yes, mummy!" she exclaimed. "That would be so nice! Please say yes!"

Molly smiled down at her daughter. "I don't see why not. I'll send Ron a letter and have him invite him to come spend Christmas with us."

"Thank you," Nathan said fervently. He looked at his watch and frowned- he needed to get going if he was to get back in time for the staff meeting. "I'm afraid I have to go. Give Arthur my regards, would you?"

"Of course," Molly said, smiling.

"You have a nice day," Nathan said, tilting his hat and turning to go. 

* * *

Ron stopped waving when the train rounded the bend. He lowered his hand with a sigh and looked out at where the platform had just disappeared.

He was going to miss his mum; he already knew it. Sure, he was excited to be going to Hogwarts, but he'd never left home for so long before. He was going to miss being able to go to his mum for advice or help.

And Ginny. Ginny had been his best friend, almost, for most of his life. Sure, they fought sometimes, but that didn't mean he didn't love his sister. He'd never tell her, but he was going to miss spending time with her.

At least he'd have the rest of his family- the twins, and Percy. Though if Percy kept going on about being a prefect he might not be spending so much time with him. That was just annoying!

Sighing again, he leaned down and picked up the end of his trunk, then started through the carriages, looking for a place to sit. The first four cars he came to were full, but the fifth one only had one person- Harry Potter, who Nathan had brought to the station.

Ron paused to consider his options. He didn't know if Harry would want him there- after all, he was just the youngest Weasley boy and Harry Potter was famous- but he didn't want to turn around and walk all the way up to the front of the train to see if there were any open compartments there. Besides, back in the station, Harry Potter hadn't seemed upset to see him, like most of the pureblood families he'd met before.

Coming to his decision, he slid the door open. "Anyone sitting there?" he asked nervously, pointing at the seat opposite of Harry. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry shook his head, so Ron slipped inside and gingerly sat down. He glanced at Harry, then looked away when he saw the other boy looking at him.

The twins appeared in the doorway and looked towards him. "Hey Ron," George said. "Listen, we're going to go down the middle of the train- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron said, shuddering. He _hated_ spiders.

"Harry," said Fred, "Did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later then."

"Bye," said Ron and Harry together.

Before they left, Fred turned to Ron and almost imperceptibly raised an eyebrow. The message was clear- _you all right here?_ Ron nodded, equally imperceptibly. He doubted Harry had noticed a thing.

The Weasley family had always been able to communicate like that, in the way that Ron assumed came naturally to tightly knit families. Ron saw Fred return his nod before they slid the door closed behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out, then immediately felt embarrassed.

The boy across from him didn't seem to mind, though. He nodded.

"Oh- well, I thought it might have been one of Fred or George's jokes," Ron said lamely. "And do you really have- you know, the scar?" he motioned at his forehead.

Harry nodded and brushed the hair away from his forehead. There, in the middle of his forehead, was a red, lightening bolt shaped scar. Ron wasn't usually given to flights of fancy, but he imagined it looked… malicious somehow. Like it hated him.

Then he blinked, and the feeling was gone. It seemed like just a regular scar.

"So that's where You-Know-Who…?"

"Yes," Harry said quickly, "But I don't remember it."

"Nothing?" Ron replied. He had been hoping that Harry might have been able to tell him something about You-Know-Who. His parents wouldn't talk about him, nor would anyone else, and so Ron, like anyone who was left in the dark, wondered who this wizard was that had become such an evil figure no one dared speak of him.

"Well, I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else…" Harry trailed off.

"Wow," said Ron.

Harry's face was twisted in an odd emotion. After a moment, Ron figured out what it was- discomfort. His questions had clearly bothered Harry. He quickly stared out the window, feeling shamed.

Harry changed the topic, and they began to speak about their families. Ron explained how hard it was, living in a family where you were the youngest and got nothing but hand-me-downs. He showed Harry the wand he was using, the one that used to be Charlie's, with the unicorn hair poking out.

When it became obvious that he was embarrassed, Harry told him that not having any money wasn't anything to be embarrassed about.

"After all," he said, "I didn't have any money until about a month ago. I had to wear my cousin's old clothes all the time."

"Ouch," Ron sympathized, wincing. "Yeah, that's not fun."

"And he was much bigger than me," Harry said, holding out his arms like he was a balloon. Harry had relaxed quite a bit during their conversation, and Ron was reminded of the time Old Man Perkins- his dad's coworker- told him he had a talent for making people feel comfortable. He supposed that must be what was happening.

"Really?" he replied, sniggering at the thought of someone that fat.

"Yeah," Harry said, grinning. "Always ate so much I thought he must be a whale." He shrugged. "I also didn't get proper birthday presents, you know, just hangers or a screw. And until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or about Voldemort- "

Ron couldn't help himself- he gasped.

"What?" Harry said, seemingly confused.

"_You said You-Know-Who's name!"_ Ron exclaimed, feeling both shocked and impressed. "I would have thought you of all people…"

Ron wasn't sure why You-Know-Who's name was so taboo, but he did know that no one- not even his dad, who was the bravest person he knew- ever said it. Growing up, he'd once seen it written down in a book and had asked his mother who it was. She'd flinched and glanced around the room like she was expecting to be attacked, then fearfully told him not to say it again. For someone to say You-Know-Who's name- that was the height of bravery.

"I wasn't trying to be brave or anything." Harry said, looking bewildered. "I just didn't know I wasn't supposed to. Nathan said it all the time…"

"Yeah, but he's _Nathan_," Ron said, waving it off. "He's in the army, you know. I'll bet he's not scared of _anything._"

And he truly believed that. Nathan was something of a hero to him, since he'd heard so many of his stories. He'd even seen Nathan show Arthur some of his weapons once.

"You know Nathan?" Harry asked, looking at him questioningly.

"He stayed with us for a week after he got out of the army," Ron said. "He'd been with muggles for so long, he needed time to adjust back to being with wizards. Dumbledore asked us to let him spend some time with us before he started working at Hogwarts."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted when a smiling, dimpled woman slid the door to their compartment open. "Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked.

Ron felt his spirits sink. He muttered that he'd brought sandwiches and pulled them out of his trunk while Harry went out and bought what looked like half the cart.

After a few minutes, Harry managed to convince him to take some of the sweets and they spent a few hours eating their way through them. He helped Harry start a chocolate frog collection with the Dumbledore card Harry got from the first chocolate frog.

Soon, they were passing through woods and hills, and most of the candy was gone. Ron was just about to eat the last pumpkin pasty when the door opened again, revealing a rather sad looking boy who looked around the carriage.

"Sorry, but have either of you seen a toad at all?" he asked.

Ron shook his head no. The boy's face scrunched up and he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

Ron didn't really know why the boy was so worried- after all, whenever Scabbers wandered off, he came back- but it seemed important to him. Harry quickly reassured the boy and he went off to search the other carriages.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron commented. "If I'd lost Scabbers, I wouldn't be so worried. Might not make a difference, really," he added, poking at his rat. "He may as well be dead; I wouldn't know the difference. I tried to turn him yellow yesterday, to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. Here, I'll show you."

He pulled out his wand and held it up, then winced at its dingy appearance. "Oh well," he muttered.

He had just raised the wand to perform his spell when the carriage door slid open again.

"Has anybody seen a toad?" came a very bossy sounding voice. "Neville's lost one."

Ron looked up to see a girl standing in the doorway. She had long, bushy hair, rather large front teeth, and was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes, which he noticed went very well with her brown eyes.

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," Ron said, shrugging. The girl wasn't listening, though, she was staring at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic?" she said bossily. "Let's see it, then."

Ron blinked. He'd not been expecting to be put on the spot like that. "Err… alright then," he muttered. He lifted the wand and began to chant. "Sunshine, Daisies, Butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

Nothing happened. Ron felt his heart sink, but he wasn't surprised- it didn't sound like any of the spells he'd heard his mum use, so he'd already suspected it wasn't going to work. The fact that George had given him the spell was another clue. Still, he was disappointed that he'd looked foolish to his new friend Harry, and in front of this demanding girl.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" the girl asked, unknowingly echoing his thoughts. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me."

Ron felt a sharp pain of resentment- why did she have to bring that up when he'd clearly just failed? It wasn't fair. He was irritated enough that he tuned out most of the rest of her speech.

"-I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," he muttered.

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" Hermione said. "I know all about you, of course- I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" said Harry, looking as if he'd just been brained by a hammer.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me. Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad; anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad, you two had better change, you know, I'll expect we'll be there soon." She said all this so fast Ron could barely keep up, so he was still trying to understand what she said when she walked out, dragging Neville with her.

"Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm not in it," Ron muttered. "Stupid spell- George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

Harry quickly distracted him, talking about houses, then about quidditch. Ron's spirits rose, and he began to explain all the positions to Harry.

They were interrupted when the door slid open and three boys entered. One of them, Ron recognized- Draco Malfoy.

"Is it true?" he said rudely. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?" He was staring straight at Harry as he spoke.

"Yes," Harry said warily, looking at the other two boys. They were tall and broad, and they looked more like thugs or bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco said carelessly. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron coughed to hide his snigger at the way Draco had introduced himself. He sounded almost like that one spy from the movies Dad had once gone to watch- Jim Bond? James Bond? Something like that.

Unfortunately, that cough drew Draco's attention. "Think my name's funny, do you?" he sneered. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron bristled, but Draco had already turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand as if to shake Harry's, and Ron desperately hoped Harry wouldn't take it. He didn't- instead, his face turned frosty and he replied, "I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks."

Draco didn't blush, but his cheeks tinged pink. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said softly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and Hagrid or Nathan, and it'll rub off on you."

Ron sprang to his feet, incensed at the attack on his family-_his family!_\- and on Nathan, one of his personal heroes. "Say that again!" he demanded.

"Oh, so you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry, looking coldly determined. Ron hadn't even noticed him stand up, but he was beside him now.

"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys?" Malfoy sneered. He seemed to do a lot of that. "We've eaten all our food, and you still seem to have some."

Goyle reached towards the last few chocolate frogs, which were sitting next to Ron. Ron stepped forwards, hands coming up into position like Nathan had once shown him, but before he could act, Goyle let out a terrible yell.

Scabbers was hanging off his finger, teeth sunk deep into the second knuckle. Malfoy and Crabbe moved back as Goyle swung his hand around, trying to dislodge the pet rat, but Scabbers refused to let go. Finally, Goyle gave his arm one more great wide swing and Scabbers flew off his finger to slam into the window. When Ron looked back, the three boys were gone.

Hermione Granger came back in less than two seconds later.

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets on the floor. "Have you been fighting? You're going to get yourselves kicked out even before it starts!"

Ron ignored her and picked up Scabbers by his tail. "I think he's been knocked out," he said to Harry, then squinted at his pet. "No, wait… I don't believe it. He's gone back to sleep." He rolled his eyes. "You've met Malfoy before, Harry?"

"He was in the robe shop in Diagon Alley," Harry replied.

Ron scowled. "I've heard of his family. They were one of the first to come back, after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. Dad doesn't believe it; he says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the dark side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

"You had better put your robes on," she said primly. "I've been talking to the conductor and he says we're almost there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

Ron shoved aside the question of whether she'd been talking to the conductor because no one else wanted her in their compartment. "Scabbers has been fighting, not us," he said instead. "Would you mind leaving so we can change?"

"All right- I only came in here to find out what was making all that noise," Hermione said, looking offended. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"

Ron scowled at her as she left, but as soon as she was gone, he rubbed at the side of his nose. Hopefully he could get the dirt to go away before they got to Hogwarts. He found himself wishing he'd let his mum finish wiping it off.

As he and Harry changed into their robes, they talked about what they were expecting. Ron was feeling nervous, but he had a friend now, who would be sorted at the same time as him. Even with his first school feast approaching, he was feeling better about being there, and happier now that he'd met a new friend.

* * *

Nathan reached the staffroom barely a few minutes before the staff meeting started. He'd been delayed trying to floo back from the Ministry of Magic, thanks to the noon-day rush, but he'd made it back in time. He quickly crossed the room to take a seat that faced the entrance.

"So good of you to join us," Snape drawled, but there was no heat in his words. He and Nathan had reached an agreement several years ago.

"Glad I could," Nathan muttered, his voice pitched to barely be heard through the room. "Bloody Ministry needs to sort out their queue."

That set off a wave of laughter, as he'd hoped it would. He allowed himself to grin before straightening up.

Professor Dumbledore smiled from his seat at the front of the room. "Shall we get started, professors?"

The room quickly became quiet as everyone turned to the headmaster.

"The Philosopher's Stone is currently in the final chamber of the series of rooms we selected in the third-floor corridor," Dumbledore began. "I have looked over your proposals- the ones I have received- for the defenses in the rooms you have been assigned, and I have approved of each of them. This meeting is for the purpose of raising any questions you have concerning them."

"Actually, Headmaster, I did have a question," Snape drawled. "Why on earth are we setting up non-lethal defenses on an item of so much importance? I understand that we have students in the school, but surely… _Fluffy_… will be enough to dissuade them?"

"Perhaps, if we did not have the Weasley twins to deal with," Professor Sprout said wryly. "Those boys can get anywhere."

"Quite," Professor Dumbledore said with a smile. "And while I fully intend to warn the students at this evening's opening feast, I would think there are quite a few who will be curious, and some of them may not be dissuaded by a three headed dog."

Professor Snape rolled his eyes but motioned in acquiescence before sitting back in his chair.

"While I cannot agree with the use of lethal force in a school," Professor McGonagall said, "I must question whether or not the current suggestions will be sufficient to keep the Stone safe. After all, chess matches can be won, and keys can be caught."

"True," Nathan said before Professor Dumbledore could speak, "But I've looked through the proposals myself. Any one of the obstacles, someone could beat, but all of them? It's not often you find someone who's a skilled chess master, an athlete, an expert in Herbology, and a logician all at the same time. You'd need a multi-person team to crack them all, and we'd notice if one of those entered the school. We're all aware of how sensitive the new wards are."

That comment was met with grunts of agreement and winces of remembrance- they'd had some problems getting the new wards up, including one memorable day when no one could leave the room they were in until Dumbledore had taken that ward down.

"I agree with Nathan," Professor Dumbledore said. "The chances of anyone being able to get through on their own are very small, unless they have a detailed idea of what they're facing, and a group of people trying to retrieve the stone are unlikely to be able to work together properly- there is, after all, only one Stone. They would fight over it before they could even get to it. Are there any other questions?"

There were none, so the topic turned to whether the Professors were prepared for their classes. Nathan sat back in his chair and listened to the conversation with one ear while he finished planning out his own section of the defenses.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore called the meeting to an end and the professors began to file out. "Nathan, may I speak with you before you go?" Dumbledore requested as Nathan stood up.

"Sure thing," Nathan said, slipping to the side of the door so the other teachers could get out.

As Professor Flitwick left, Nathan reached out and closed the door.

"What did you think of the security proposals?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Nathan over the top of his glasses.

"I think they should work," Nathan said. "I thought Snape's was particularly clever, if I'm honest. Labeling the sleeping potions as poison will make anyone who gets to that room much more cautious."

"I'm glad to hear it," the headmaster admitted. "I, too, have had doubts as to whether we can adequately secure the Stone without using more dangerous methods, but you raised a good point. While we do have some students that could outplay Minerva in chess, none of them could manage to catch a flying key or have enough knowledge to identify a Devil's Snare on sight." He rifled through the stack of papers in front of him. "The only proposals missing are yours and Professor Quirrell's. Do you know when you'll have yours finished?"

Nathan waved a hand. "I just finished planning it out earlier. I'll have it on your desk by tomorrow morning."

"Excellent," Dumbledore beamed. "Thank you." He shifted. "And now, on to another question: what did you think of young Mr. Potter?"

"Harry?" Nathan shrugged. "Good kid, I think. He's humble, more so than I thought he would be, given how famous he is here."

"Excellent," Dumbledore murmured. "What did you think of his upbringing?"

Nathan frowned. "This is where I have some concerns. You remember me telling you about how his Aunt and Uncle didn't tell him about magic?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"Well, when I got there this morning to pick him up, he was sitting outside on the front porch. Said he'd been there for two hours. When I asked if he'd had breakfast, he said he hadn't, but that wasn't a problem because sometimes he doesn't get breakfast."

Dumbledore frowned. "That's doesn't sound like what I'd hoped for."

"No sir, it doesn't. And when I first went to deliver his letter, his uncle said that a good beating might have cured him of magic."

Professor Dumbledore's eyes had lost their usual twinkle, and Nathan suspected he was seeing the face of the man who had been on the front lines of a war, not the cheerful headmaster.

"Did they beat him?"

Nathan shook his head. "Not that I could tell, and his words implied he never had. That said, there's other forms of abuse."

"Do you think he's being mistreated?"

"Yes," Nathan replied firmly. "I do. I don't know if it's bad, but they're not treating him the way they should. The problem is, I don't have _proof_. And Harry seems uncomfortable discussing it, so I don't want to push. "

Dumbledore rubbed his beard. "For now, he's safe. He's going to be here at Hogwarts, where no one will dare harm him. But when summer comes…"

"Is there any chance of moving him?" Nathan asked.

Dumbledore frowned. "If it were merely a matter of providing housing, certainly. But there are blood wards, tied to him and his aunt, that protect him. While he calls that house home, he cannot be found by anyone who wishes him harm. It is powerful magic, old magic, but it comes with conditions. He would need to be with either a blood family member or with someone his parents had designated as a godparent."

"And his only godparent is in prison for betraying his parents," Nathan muttered.

"Precisely," Dumbledore responded. He sighed. "We will keep an eye on him over the summer, and if we see anything happening, we will intercede. Until then, I don't know that there's anything else we can do."

"Unfortunately, I think you might be right," Nathan replied. "It's not as if we could go to the police with this."

"No, unfortunately," Dumbledore replied before sitting up straight again. "Thank you again for your help, Nathan.

Nathan shrugged, as if to say that it wasn't a problem, then paused. "May I ask one question?' he said.

"What is it?" Professor Dumbledore replied.

"Where did you _really_ put the stone?"

The headmaster lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Nathan lifted his own eyebrow in reply. "I highly doubt that you've left an item that valuable sitting on the floor in the third-floor corridor. If I know you, you've got it tucked away somewhere while everyone thinks it's where you told them it was."

Professor Dumbledore sent a piercing look at Nathan, who smiled as he recognized what was happening. "My Occlumency is as strong as ever," he said dryly.

Most people were unaware of it, but Occlumency required very little magical power- most people could manage a basic form of it, if they had enough self-discipline, since all it required was an ability to avoid thinking of what you didn't want someone to know. Nathan was an SAS commando- he had self-discipline to spare. With Dumbledore and Snape's tutelage, he had become quite skilled at keeping others out of his mind.

"Indeed, it is," Dumbledore said, smiling at him. Nathan just looked at him expectantly.

Professor Dumbledore started chuckling. "It's here, in my pocket," he said, tapping the side of his robe. "I think no one would be likely to look there, would they?"

Nathan laughed. "No sir, I doubt they would," he snorted, then waved at him. "Have a good afternoon, Professor."


End file.
